Daddy, Not Bats
by Glimare
Summary: AU, continuation of 'A Father's Request'. Join one 'retired' Batman as he raises his kids all together while trying to still save the world with this version of the Justice League. One Shots, mini-series, and headcanons, life for the Waynes is always interesting to watch, especially since they can't leave crime fighting behind them. T for paranoia
1. The Evening Everything Changed

**Disclaimer:** Let's look at this logically shall we? If I owned Batman or any characters from DC comics, you would not be reading these stories in this medium. and I'd be getting paid. Neither are happening. So i own nothing. This is the only time I'll be saying so here, mostly because it's a pain in the rear saying so on every freakin' chapter and/or short story. *diez*

As a review, please read 'A Father's Request' first, as this is a continuation of that world. s/8024980/1/A_Fathers_Request Yes, this is AU. many details will be explained later, some at the bottom of this short. Just know, ages of the kids are important as it dictates part of their personalities and actions. So are birthdays. Other than Dick's, all my birthdate referencing comes from . I'll try to put their ages at the top of each chapter/short, but other times you really should just read the story and see for yourselves. Also I'll be adding a time line among other things here to help readers when I start jumping around. heh, can't always get inspiration chronologically.

Enough rambling. Enjoy the 'Daddy, not Bats' verse!

Dick-12 Jason-9 Cass-7 Tim-5

* * *

**The Evening Everything Changed**

"Are you sure we should be doing this?"

"We've talked this over a hundred times by now Flash. We need his support."

"I know Diana," Flash started, looking up to the ominous building before them. A large private residence sure, but it still intimidated the speedster. "But wouldn't it be better to talk to Mr. Wayne at his office or something? His home just seems…"

"He'll have to hide that he's supporting us," their leader interjected, looking around the grounds for a moment. "How can he hide that if we're always at his office?"

"I could have supported us just fine Superman. There's plenty of gold at the bottom of the ocean."

"And I have artifacts and gold galore on Themiscara," Wonder Woman added. "But in man's world, the surface world, they will want someone more financially stable. I have learned this much Aquaman. I assumed you had as well."

The king of Atlantis rolled his eyes and looked away in slight defeat. They all knew they needed this man's resources. His price for giving them to their League was very reasonable too. Protect his city, protect his family. Wayne was just trying to save what mattered most to him, but couldn't do it with just money. He needed them. Gotham was a really dangerous place.

"Well I for one am looking forward to meeting the billionaire. Maybe he'll let me take a spin in one of his fancy cars."

Flash laughed at his friend. "I'm surprised you aren't gonna ask for a fighter jet from him Hal."

This Green Lantern grinned. "Who knows, I might. May even get him to hire me as a test pilot on their next model. Wayne Tech can't fire a thing worth crap but they fly really well.

"What about you J'onn," he turned to their Martian. "What are you hoping to gain from this arrangement? A life time supply of Oreos?"

Manhunter shrugged. "Thought that would be most satisfying, I would just be satisfied with having a place to call my own. I have yet to integrate with your world's people and it's quite unnerving."

Superman smiled kindly at his fellow alien before looking over his newly made team. They were just associates before, but with Bruce Wayne's backing, they could become a real team, a real force to be reckoned with. One that could protect the Earth again and again. They had two aliens, two royals of hidden lands, and two average Joes who gained powers through accidents. Now they were going to talk to someone completely different to them all. The man who once was Batman.

Course he hadn't told this friends there that part. He was going to pretend he didn't hear the end of that conversation the last time he saw the Waynes. He didn't think it was his place to tell them either. This was, after all, the Batman. No powers, at all, and for five years put the fear of God into the hearts of criminals in his city. One mere mortal man. He would have gone on longer, but something happened four years ago. Something that changed his life forever.

He adopted a kid.

From the conversation he had with the man last time, Superman pieced it together. Wayne took in one kid who needed help after a crime, solved the case, then made a choice between raising the kid and being a good dad to him, or being Batman and not really being a dad at all. He chose fatherhood. And for the most part, that was the end of Batman.

And about three weeks ago, Bruce Wayne made an offer to him, and practically all this friends, that was too tempting to pass up. He would have come by earlier, but there were complications. Aliens tried to invade for one, and getting hold of Aquaman was another. This was their first chance to talk to the billionaire since then. He just hoped it wasn't too late or too inconvenient.

"I'm certain he'll help you with that," Superman concluded, his mind returning to the task at hand. They were just outside the doorway of Wayne Manor now. "He said he could secure a job for me in case I needed it. So I'm sure he'll do what he can to help us."

"Secure you a job?" Aquaman raised an eyebrow. "Does this man know who you are?"

The man of steel shrugged. "Possibly? I don't know."

"Well, here's how we find out." Hal pressed the doorbell, letting everyone hear the musical ringing that followed. They did not account for the yelling that came with it.

"I GOT IT!" "NO ME!" "MY TURN! MY TURN!" "YOU'RE TOO LITTLE!" "YOU'RE A MEANIE FACE!" "RACE YA!" "CHEATER!" "I'M GONNA TELL!" "TATTLETALE!" "WHEEE!"

The adults all looked at each other, then to Superman. He gave a helpless shrug. "I did say he had kids, right?"

Thankfully the door opened revealing a proper British butler instead of one of the screaming boys. Perfectly composed, he looked over each of them before smiling politely. "Ah. Mr. Superman, Miss Wonder Woman, Mr. Flash, Mr. Lantern, Mr. Aquaman, and Mr. Manhunter. I see you have taken Master Bruce's open invitation to visit us. Please, come in."

The butler stepped aside to let them in and they took it, slightly surprised at the formality of the man when they already heard more screaming and running further in the building. The older man shut the door behind them, as polite as ever. "I am afraid Master Bruce is currently at a business meeting, but he informed us he will be arriving home shortly."

There was a crash somewhere further in the building, alerting all their attentions. "NOT MY FAULT!" "YOU BREAK IT, YOU FIX IT!" "HOW?" "I DUNNO."

"Not soon enough," GL muttered, a smirk coming to his face.

The butler took a breath before speaking again, almost begging for patience. "Please excuse the inevitable fights and messes. The three boys who reside here are quite rambunctious. May I take your… capes?"

Almost on cue, the twelve year old of the family slid to a halt before them, ready to charge to the door. It was clear he ran as fast as he could to get to the door, because his face fell when he saw people were already inside and the butler was already there.

"Alfie…" he whined, not realizing yet who had come in. "I wanted to get it!"

"Running through hallways, shouting at the top of your lungs, all to open the door first, is not proper decorum Master Richard." The older man's chiding made the boy shrink back slightly. "I certainly hope you did not swing off the chandelier to arrive first."

The young man looked away, biting his lip in guilt. The older man gave an exasperated sigh. "Whatever will we do with you"

"Sorry Alfred," Dick murmured, looking at his socks.

Alfred sighed again before giving the guests an apologetic look. He turned back to the boy, approaching him slowly. "Just what was the crash I heard a moment ago?"

"Umm…" The kid looked back the way he came, thinking out loud. "I think Jason crashed into an end table. Or a wall. Maybe both? I think a picture fell. One with some dogs on it. No glass, so I don't think they got hurt."

The butler rubbed his eyes. "Go back upstairs and help them patch it up before Master Timothy takes out the glue again."

Dick smirked, laughing a little at the memory. "You have to admit, that was kinda funny."

"Now."

Quickly he threw up his hands and backed off. "Okay okay. I'm going." Before leaving, he looked back to the guests, probably to give an apology for his actions. Instead his eyes grew wide in recognition. "Oh my gosh…"

"You can entertain Master Bruce's guests after you and the others have cleaned up the mess you've made." Alfred stated plainly.

"But…" It was clear he wanted to talk to them over anything else.

"The sooner it's taken care of, the sooner you can play. I will be taking them to the parlor," he assured the boy. This brought a huge grin to the kid's face, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he darted back towards where he came. Disgruntled, the butler called after him, "Walk, don't run! Do not add a Ming Vase to the casualty list!"

"NO PROMISES!" Though the kid had said that, his footsteps became less intense, as if he was walking very fast instead of sprinting.

Alfred shook his head, offering his arm toward Superman for the cape once more. "I knew that boy would be the death of us when he first came here," he said lowly, a drop of humor in his voice. "Then came three others with just as many challenges. Your cape sir?"

Superman smiled kindly. "I think Dick and the others would prefer I kept it on. Thanks for offering."

"Indeed sir." The butler put his arm down, smiling pleasantly. "But do know the children's whims tend to… at times… make us uneasy. I'd advise against any flights, indoors or out, until Master Bruce is home. And please, try to keep them off of the chandeliers and other breakables when they display their skills. And know, that despite their ages, they are rather bright young fellows. Do not just humor them, and do not underestimate them. You will feel silly if you do.

"This way, if you would." As any proper gentleman's gentleman, Alfred guided them through the manor towards an open parlor, not far from the stairs or dining room. They could even hear the boys' faint talking upstairs, coming up with some solution for the problem they made while trying to fix it.

As they came in, they spotted the seven year old Asian girl listening to her ipod while reading a decent sized book. She saw them seconds after they arrived, gasping slightly as she hid behind her book. Superman gave her a slight smile, remembering how shy she was last time. Wonder Woman smiled warmly towards her, approaching her quickly as a fellow sister. "Hello there little—"

The girl was instantly on her feet, flipping over the back of the couch she was sitting on, before running around them all to hide behind Alfred. Hal and Flash bit back laughs as Diana's face grew to shock. Superman rubbed the back of his head awkwardly while Aquaman and Manhunter just watched the interaction bemused. Alfred gave a soft sigh.

"Please forgive Miss Cassandra. She does not easily associate with strangers." The kind butler looked down to the girl hiding behind his legs. "It's alright dear. This is the Justice League, associates of Master Bruce. As you can see, here's Aquaman, the king of Atlantis, Martian Manhunter, the last survivor of Mars, The Flash, fastest man alive, Green Lantern of said Corps, and Wonder Woman, Princess of Themiscara and the Amazons. I believe you've met Superman before, when Master Bruce proposed a solution for both Gotham and the League. There is nothing to be frightened of."

The man's reassurances didn't seem to help the young girl gain any courage to talk to them. Rather, it seemed Cassandra hid even further behind him, barely poking her eyes out to keep an eye on them cautiously. Her apparent fear of people in general saddened the Amazon greatly, especially since she was the one the girl ran from first. Superman decided to break the tension. "Well, if it's just strangers you're scared of missy, then we'd better start being friends. You like to read?"

Cassandra just stared at him, making no indication that she understood what he was saying. The Kryptonian tried not to get disgruntled. He heard the girl talk before. Just one word then, but she could speak. He wanted to hear her voice again. "I saw you were reading Harry Potter. I like Harry too. What's your favorite part?"

Again she said nothing, merely hid her face in Alfred's pants. Her book and ipod laid on the couch where she abandoned them moments ago. Hal came over to them and stopped the playlist as a courtesy, then blinked. "Hey, is it normal to read and listen to a book at the same time?"

The butler gave a heavy sigh, giving up on something. "Miss Cassandra has difficulty speaking," he explained, laying a hand on her head. "Her birth parents neglected teaching her to speak or read. This is one of her personal studies, to help her catch up to her class."

"Her birth parents?" Flash asked quizitively.

"How could anyone not teach such an important skill?" Wonder Woman asked with concern.

"They were not very good people," Alfred said shortly, sparing anymore explanation at the girl's expense. "She considers Master Bruce her father now, as do the boys. Now if you would pass me her possessions so she can continue her book elsewhere."

As the space cop passed over the ipod and book to the butler, they heard several sets of feet rushing down the stairs nearby. Before they knew it, three very excited boys came crashing into the room, broad grins on their faces.

"Oh my gosh! It's really them!" the green eyed one shouted excitedly. "You really weren't kidding Dickybird."

"Of course I wasn't kidding!" Dick retorted, boldly charging in to get close to Superman. "Why would I lie about them? We've been waiting three weeks to hear back from Superman, remember?"

"Is Blue Beetle here?" The third and smallest of them tottled in last, his breathing harsher than his brothers.

The middle one rolled his eyes. "Of course not Timmy. He's off in Hub doing his own thing. He's not really League material anyway."

"Yes he is!" Timmy insisted, pouting while he glared. "He's really good! He saves people, fights bad guys and is really smart!"

"Hello!" Dick interrupted, waving over to the manor's guests. "We have the League here! Pay attention peoples!"

"Fanboys." The one who had to be Jason shook his head, trying not to laugh. Must not look cool for a nine year old to go crazy when famous superheroes were in the room. He looked over to Cassandra in curiosity. "Hey, what you hiding for? They aren't Shadows, and they certainly aren't assassins. Not with those outfits on."

He thumbed over to the Leaguers all beginning to settle down around the room, some with more caution than others. Dick was already asking Superman a million questions, plus kept asking if he'd take him flying soon. Timmy also courageously came up to Flash and Martian Manhunter, asking them about their powers and how their costumes worked. Green Lantern and Wonder Woman kept their eyes on the last two while Aquaman was perfectly content lounging in his high back chair to watch the whole event unfold.

"I mean, we've got a green flashlight, a bathing suit, the jolly green giant, red long johns, captain underpants, and orange fish dude." Jason's rude remarks on the whole League's individual uniforms earned quick glares from nearly everyone, and a very disappointed scowl from Alfred. It did put a slight smile on the girl's face though. "There's no way they'd get away with killing anyone, and we've heard Dick praise Superman enough to know he doesn't hurt kids. So stop hiding like that."

"Jolly green giant?" Timmy asked curiously, looking up to the Martian owlishly. Everyone had to smirk a little as the rude little kid successfully pulled Cassandra out from behind her human shield. She still stayed close to Jason, but wasn't as skittish as before. And he was tugging her closer to the League.

"Hey, flashlight!" the kid started, grinning up at Hal. "Got any stories about space alien bad guys?"

Hal couldn't help but to roll his eyes at the boy. "Kid, don't call me that. Only one guy's gotten away with it and you're not him."

"And who was that?"

He groaned internally. He really didn't want to remember, especially in Gotham. "Batman. That guy who ditched the world four years back."

To that all the kids looked at him, raising their eyebrows. Dick was the one who answered. "He didn't ditch us. He just changed tactics. Didn't you tell them?"

He and the others turned their eyes to Superman, who nodded guiltily. "I told them. You told me Batman had kids now and had to take care of them. He still works behind the scenes though right?"

"Duh," Jason piped in. "Who'd want to give that up?" His sister nodded emphatically, shortly followed by broad smiles from the rest.

"Batman's saved each of us at one time or another," Dick explained to the rest of the League. "He's just being a lot more cautious when he is out and minimizing his activities. Officially he's 'retired' but I don't think anyone in this business can retire."

A few Leaguers exchanged glances, then shrugged. There were a few who had tried, but very few were successful at it. They knew different members of the Justice Society, and they didn't stay down for very long. Diana's mother might qualify as retired, but she wasn't really.

"So," Jason edged on, grinning impishly at Hal, "would you say Batman ditched us if he were in the room right now? He's a pretty tough guy ya know."

"Well—"

"Would anyone care for a cup of tea before dinner?" Half the room jolted as Alfred brought in a tray with enough cups for everyone and a hot kettle of Earl Grey Tea. There was also a specially prepared chocolate pot for the children.

"Uhhh… Sure." Quickly the cups were passed around as the butler worked his way around the room serving them tea. He gave an odd look to the nine year old as he came near him, one no one could quite describe. Jason looked away with a guilty smirk after taking some chocolate, making his siblings snicker knowingly.

"What? No scones?" Dick objected as he served himself a cup of his favorite beverage.

"Dinner will be within the hour," Alfred informed them. The eldest seemed to roll his eyes at that reasoning, causing his siblings to snicker again. "I anticipate Master Bruce will wish you to stay for the meal so you may discuss matters in detail."

"Need any help?" Timmy offered, looking up at him inquiringly. Cassandra seemed to be asking the same thing with her eyes, eager to follow him out of the room and where she felt more comfortable.

"I could use some assistance in setting the table for our guests." Before the words finished leaving his mouth the two younger kids were racing out the door towards the dining room, ready to help. The old man raised his eyebrows for a moment, sighing slightly before looking to the elder ones. "Pleases keep our guests entertained until your father arrives. And do not start any fights."

"Don't you trust us?" Jason joked, faking offence.

Dick joined in, mocking shock. "Really Alfred! Just what did we do to earn your distrust!"

"I would give you both a list of previous actions if I were not worried for the china at the moment. If you'll excuse me." With that, the kindly butler excused himself from the room to ensure the smallest two members of this mishmash family did not destroy any of the flatware in an attempt to be helpful. Alfred's actions along with the kids' joking demeanor brought smiles to each of the heroes' faces. Especially when the boys continued playing off of it.

"You'd thing after all this time he'd trust us a little more."

"Just what did we do? I thought we were little angels."

"Well you're the one who broke the chandeliers."

"Oh shut up." Dick returned his attention to their guests, shaking his head in slight frustration. Apparently he really didn't want to start a fight. He returned his attention to Superman setting his cup aside. "So, how about that flight?"

"Well…" The man of steel wasn't so sure. The rest of his friends seemed content to sip their tea and watch their interactions.

"Is that all you ever think about?" Jason walked around the room, checking out each Leaguer rather than focusing on a single one. "Flying?"

"That's all I think about," Hal piped in, smirking at the boys.

"It's actually lots of fun," Superman said in the older boy's defense.

"Yeah!" Dick answered with a grin. "Who wants to keep their feet on the ground?"

"Uh, those who don't like falling?"

"Oh come on!" the older one tried again. "You've flown!"

"That was falling with style," Jason pointed out, "and you made me do it."

"Do what?" Wonder Woman asked out loud. The others were starting to wonder as well. They looked over to Dick for answers. And he just shrugged.

"Been teaching them how to use a trapeze and do gymnastics and stuff. It kinda feels like flying if you do it right." He grinned at the man of steel again. "So, after dinner can we go flying? Really flying?"

It seemed every fiber of this kid's being wanted to do exactly this. Those there who could fly couldn't blame the kid for wanting to as well. His brother didn't seem near as impressed by the idea but didn't seem to object further. Maybe he secretly wanted to fly too.

"Only if your father agrees," Superman stated evenly.

"YES!" Dick jumped around excitedly, grinning from ear to ear at the possibility of flight. It was almost heartwarming to watch him.

"Sweet." Jason did a quick flip over the back of the couch and landed next to Wonder Woman, grinning. "That'd'll be so cool. So, they say you're an Amazon. What's the story behind that?"

"Well…"

"Hey! Can you tell us about how you guys all met?" The older brother, not to be out done, did a quick back flip before landing on an end table and propping himself up on it with his hands, doing splits in the air. "I bet that was so cool! Wasn't it like some kind of alien invasion or something?"

"Dick…" The younger one tried in annoyance.

"What?" he raised his eyebrows at him. "You wanna know too. I mean, you can only get so much intel from news reports and random eyewitnesses. It's always better to get the story from the source."

"But don't you think Cass and Timmy would like to hear it too?"

"Um…"

"They won't take long." Jason grinned back to the princess again. "So, what's your story?"

The boy's eagerness to hear their tales, both individually and collectively, made them smile. It was good to know they really wanted to hear what they had to say and were more than content to listen. It was becoming clearer why Mr. Wayne had asked for their help to protect them; they were just too lovable and impish for their own good.

As Diana opened her mouth and told them her tale, Dick seemed to settle down (still sitting on the table instead of a chair) and Jason became enthralled by what she had to say. About ten minutes later, Timmy and Cassandra rejoined them, both settling on the ground to hear the heroes tell them about their many adventures. All four of them were very good listeners and occasionally asked questions. Timmy in particular kept asking why certain things had happened and how other things worked. Dick just asked about the other people involved or why the other side did what they did. Jason kept edging on the story after the interruptions and Cass kept quiet, watching them all in her shy way. The visitors found themselves sharing more than they intended because of their captive audience.

It was Aquaman's turn to tell them about their adventures when the girl jerked up straight and turned around with a snap. A smile grew on her face as she nearly leapt to her feet. Her sudden actions drew everyone's attention. "What's up Cass?"

"Dad."

She was already out of the parlor before Timmy also jumped up and ran after her. Dick was grinning as he flipped off the end table. "Alright! Bruce's home! Dinner time!"

Different leaguers chuckled at the kids' actions. The oldest of them stopped short of the door before looking back to Jason. "You coming?"

"Nah, I'll let the cute ones test the waters first." This brought a thinking glare to the older boy's face before the trouble maker brushed it off. "Besides, someone's gotta stay with our guests, right?"

Dick seemed to think it over for a moment before shrugging and heading towards where the others went. "Your loss."

The heroes exchanged looks as they stood up. Hal looked over to Jason curiously. "Test the waters?"

The kid grinned impishly, shrugging slightly as he came closer to the doorway. "Dad gets a little grumpy and really broody from time to time. He can't stay mad with Timmy and Cass though. Even Dickybird gets him happy in minutes. I'm usually a reason why he's mad."

"DADDY!" they could hear through the halls, followed by a dull thump. Superman decided to look through the walls to see what was going on, something the rest of his friends wished they could do as well.

Bruce Wayne, haggard from a day of work at the office, was just coming into the more populated parts of the manor when his youngests slammed into his legs, giving very tight hugs. His briefcase had fallen out of his hands at impact and he quickly put his hands on both their heads in an attempt to keep balance. Timmy had immediately started talking to him about his day, grinning all the while before some confusion came to the man's face. Dick finally came into view as the other two's grips loosened from the man's legs and started explaining what had happened recently. Confusion became surprise and for a moment it seemed like the man was looking straight at the man of steel.

"Oh, so you're the trouble maker around here are you?" Flash joked.

"I have my moments." Jason was still grinning. "Dick used to get Dad called to the principal's office too, but then he threatened to take away his trapeze set or not let him go out with friends if he didn't behave. Alfred said both of us are just going through a phase or something. I just think its nature versus nurture."

"Where'd you hear a phrase like that?" Aquaman asked, intrigued by this child and the others. He and his wife were trying for a child of their own. Were all children like these four?

The kid shrugged. "School? TV? Maybe somewhere around Dad's office? Dunno. I pick up a lot of weird things everywhere."

"I bet you do." Hal ruffled the kid's hair playfully. He was beginning to like this boy, even if he did call him a flashlight. "So, what's the best prank you've pulled?"

Jason's grin only grew. "If I told you that, I'd still be grounded." He peaked out the doorway and waved his hand. "Hey Dad! Welcome back."

Bruce Wayne came into everyone's view a moment later, closely followed by Timmy and Dick. The youngest was trying to carry their father's brief case and the older was trying to kindly take it from him; the thing was too heavy and awkward for the little guy. Wayne ruffled the resident trouble maker's hair for a moment before looking over to the visitors.

He still seemed to be in a bit of a foul mood. Or maybe a slight glare was his natural state. They didn't know, but the boys didn't seem to be disturbed by it. The billionaire's eyes locked on the man of steel. "I thought you were going to come to my office. Two weeks ago."

"I told you!" Flash immediately interjected, jerking around to their leader. The two older kids laughed, quickly followed by their younger brother. Even their father looked over to the scarlet speedster and smirked a little. He continued to razz on the kryptonian. "You two met at his office when he made the offer, it's only implied you do the same if you're going to accept it!"

"I just thought…" Superman's mind went blank, realizing now he should have done this on his own at Wayne's office after all.

"Oh Hera." Wonder Woman shook her head at the two men, and the Lantern starting to laugh at them as well. She looked over to the owner of the house, offering an apology. "Please excuse our intrusion. If this is a bad time or place, we can come back at a later date."

"It's not that." Bruce waved off her offer, giving a heavy sigh. "It's just been a long couple of weeks. And what I keep finding about my Ex…"

"Told ya she was evil," Dick murmured behind him. He finally managed to get the case from the younger boy and stop laughing.

"And did you really want that demon for a father-in-law?" Jason piped it. Their dad gave them both shrewd glares before both wisely clamped their mouths shut.

Wayne shook his head slightly before looking back to the heroes before him. "So, you're the Justice League. Welcome to Wayne Manor. I see the kids haven't scared you off yet." The boys snickered impishly at the statement. "So I can only assume you wish to discuss my proposition further. Over dinner?"

"You have dinner really early don't you." Green Lantern looked over to one of the clocks in the room and stopped when he realized it was nearly seven. They'd been in the place for nearly an hour. How time flew. "Or not…"

The billionaire raised an eyebrow at him. "It takes a while to get them to bed."

A polite cough brought their attention back around to the butler that seemed to appear and disappear at a moment's notice. Behind Alfred was Cassandra, biting her lip and shifting nervously. She wasn't as shy as before, but was clearly eager to move on. "Dinner is served."

"YEAH!" All three boys darted behind the gentleman and took their sister with them to the dining room for the meal they'd been waiting for. They must have been starving.

"Walk!" Both their father and butler projected in unison. They were answered with giggling. Bruce gave a heavy sigh, shaking his head as he and the old man guided their guests to the large dining room. "Really, they have too much energy some times. This way please."

The six exchanged amused glances as they followed the two men and were soon greeted yet again by excited children. Dick grabbed Superman's hand and started pulling him to a particular seat. "Sit with me! This is gonna be so cool!"

"Dick…" the warning in his father's voice was ignored as Jason made a similar grab for Wonder Woman.

"Hey! Sit here! Dad'll love it."

"Jason!"

"Well you will." The one woman in the room was pulled toward the chair to the left hand side of head of the table. Superman was guided to it's right. Both boys situated themselves on their opposite side while Cassandra took Jason's left and Timmy Dick's right. The youngest had pulled Flash to his side and Green Lantern sat next to him. Martian Manhunter situated himself next to the young girl and Aquaman next to him, pouting slightly. He was a king and wasn't used to being so far away from the head of the table. Bruce gave him an apologetic look and motioned to the children as an explanation. At least he knew what proper seating was, but for the kids' sakes, the king let it slide.

Everyone seated, the head of the household took his seat and looked towards Alfred. "Shall we?"

"Indeed sir."

* * *

"Wow," Jason stated probably for the fifth time that night as he stared at Flash, "you eat a lot."

"No kidding." Dick watched as the seventh express delivery pizza box was handed back over to Alfred behind the speedster. They had called for ten boxes after he had cleaned his plate three times within the first ten minutes of the meal. And he swore he was eating slowly.

"How come you're not fat?"

"Timmy." Bruce's chiding only made the rest of the people there look away awkwardly and laugh to themselves. They all wondered the same thing.

But Flash laughed. It was a normal thing little kids asked him. "It's alright. I've got a hyper-accelerated metabolism. Its how my body supplies the energy I need to move as fast as I do. So I constantly need refueling, and I eat a lot."

"Whoa." Jason's eyes were as wide as saucers, his mind churning at the thought. Watching the man eat had ruined Cass' appetite about half way through the meal and she had pushed her plate away from her with half of its contents still there. Dick and Timmy had broken off other conversations to watch the show in sick fascination. "How's the plumbing at your house?"

"Jason!"

But the boy's comment started a series of snickers and choked laughs around the table. Even the speedster gave a short snort. His father though still glared at him. "Rule six."

"Ooo… Broke it again."

"Oh shut it Dick." The boy glared at his older brother across the table. "You were thinking it too."

"Pft, I'm not the one who said it." The eldest there threw up his hands, grinning impishly.

Hal down the way laughed. "You know, I've always wondered what happened to all the—"

"Don't encourage them," Wayne ordered quickly, rubbing away the tension growing in his head. The meal was pretty much over and they had switched subjects several times because of the kids there, but they still managed to conclude their deal during the course of it. He looked to the clock for a moment then to his guests. "I'm afraid we need to end this visit shortly. Timothy and Cassandra need to start heading for bed."

"Awww… but I wanna stay up more!" Timmy whined loudly. Cassandra was pouting in her chair but as always said nothing.

"Everyone has school tomorrow," he reminded them quickly, "and your bedtime is at eight. Eight thirty at the latest. Jason should probably be heading up there too."

"Ah come on!" Jason objected loudly. "I don't have to go to bed 'til nine!"

"And judging by how long it takes you to actually get in there you may as well start now." It was a very logical statement, and everyone there had to agree.

The boy scowled at him for a moment before speaking. "If I have to go, then so should Dick."

"I don't take near as long as you do!" the preteen objected. "Why should I—"

"Enough." Superman covered his mouth in amusement, exchanging looks with Wonder Woman across the way as the head of the household ended the argument entirely. "All of you get ready for bed. If you can manage to get it done in the next fifteen minutes, you can see the League off. Clear?"

He didn't get a verbal answer. Instead each of them exchanged wide eyed looks before leaping out of their seats and racing up stairs to their rooms to do just that. Many of the Leaguers watched them leave with smiles on their faces.

"I'm taking that as a 'crystal'," Hal joked.

Bruce grunted in response, taking one last sip of his glass. "My apologies for their behaviors. They are all very… willful to say the least."

"Sounds like a good place to recruit," the space cop commented again. This time though he received a hard glare.

"No. They stay out of this." Wayne shook his head ruefully. "They're in enough danger as is, I don't want them running headlong into bullets and monsters. And they've seen enough already."

"I was just kidding." The man did not expect that look coming his way. "Besides, I think the Core has an age requirement. Your kids are plenty safe."

"I certainly hope so." He gave them all a pointed look. "I'm counting on all of you to do what I can't."

"Just remember," Aquaman reminded him, "we have our duties in our homelands and cities as well. The fate of the universe will be a priority to them."

"Understandable." The CEO interlaced his fingers as he leaned onto the table. "And my children aren't entirely helpless. But in the case that the world isn't being invaded or threatened by disasters, I do want them and Gotham to be a priority. This is my only requirement for my services."

"And you're really prepared to supply us with the most updated technology and resources, plus provide each of us covers when we need them." The man nodded to Wonder Woman's statement.

"Man, do you really understand the risks you're taking?" Flash wasn't so sure he wanted to bring in this man, especially the kids. His girlfriend had a nephew and he wanted to make sure both of them stayed safe at all times. "You'll have to hide the fact you're supporting us. That'll include cooking the books and playing with your finances just to keep the IRS from looking in on you. This could bring down your company."

Bruce smirked knowingly. "Let me worry about that."

"And the technology?" Flash continued. "Someone is bound to notice in your R&D department all the missing tech."

"Like I said, I'll deal with it."

"How exactly are you going to deal with that?" Hal demanded. The knowing smile on the man's face was beginning to creep him out. "Okay, scratch that. Really your problem. I'm actually more curious about that whole information thing you also promised. How are you going to manage that?"

He raised an amused eyebrow at the space cop before looking around to the others. Superman was neatly keeping his mouth shut while looking elsewhere while Manhunter was seemingly more interested in the cookies left on the table. Everyone else was looking at him in bafflement. Still the man smirked. "Still haven't figured it out yet."

"Figured out what?" Each of the human Leaguers exchanged looks of pure confusion.

"He's done this before." For the more part of the evening, J'onn had kept his mouth shut. He knew something was up when he did a slight mental probe of the house hold and found every mind shielded to a certain extent. So he had to use his acquired detective skills, plus Superman's thoughts which never were shielded.

"What?" "Why?" "How?" "Really? He's done this before? When?"

"Take a moment and think, Hal." His smirk was scaring the space cop, along with hearing his real name from the man's lips. How did he… "Barry, Arthur, Diana, John, Clark."

This brought all their eyes on him, shocked and somewhat horrified that he knew each and every one of their civilian first names. Though some of them didn't really hide it, the fact he would quickly reveal it without any hesitation. Superman in particular was upset. "What are you doing?"

"Leveling the playing field." He looked the kryptonian straight into the eye now. "You know what I'm talking about."

"You know… that I know…"

"You dropped ten feet in the air mere seconds after we said it."

The alien looked away in frustration. "I haven't told them!"

"Told us what?" It was getting frustrating the way the two were talking. All the others were both offended and scared by how they talked about some crucial detail they didn't know, without being specific. "What are you two hiding? What's the big secret here?"

"He is Batman."

Everyone froze and slowly turned to the Martian for a moment. He only raised a preverbal eyebrow. "Superman needs to learn how to shield his mind from stray thoughts."

"Hm. We can work on that."

They all stared at the amused detective now, definitely laughing at them deep inside. The League just gaped at him, each remembering rumors and brief encounters with the urban legend little over four years ago. Most of them didn't want to meet him again under any circumstances. Besides being scary and difficult to deal with, he insulted most of them on a personal level. And how he was offering, or perhaps blackmailing them, into working for him. They knew this was too good to be true.

"Seriously. You're Batman?" Flash demanded, remembering the one time their paths crossed about five years ago. He made a jab at his disguise, said it was useless in Gotham and that he should have stayed in Central.

"Was." Bruce leaned back into his chair. "I retired officially four years ago after closing the Zucco/Grayson case."

"Why?" GL demanded. Being called a bright green flashlight without anything in his head was just one of the things that ticked him off about the man. "Why did you—"

"You met why."

They all stopped for a moment as they remembered the kids who minutes ago ran out of that room in a frenzy just so they could see their heroes off before bed. Then they remembered the offer. It all started to click in their heads. Before coming there, each of them had looked up Bruce Wayne's history. They knew about his parents' murder. They knew about his time abroad. They knew he had quite the reputation as a playboy philanthropist. Then four years ago, just months before anyone had heard of Batman again, he adopted one Richard Grayson.

"I couldn't risk Dick losing his parents twice," he stated evenly. "So I retired. One became two, then three and four. And I wouldn't trade them for the world."

Wayne crossed his utensils on his plate before taking another sip of his glass. Alfred had returned to the room with some evening coffee, silently pouring cups for each of them there. Each cup was placed within easy reach of the Leaguers as the head of the household continued, taking his coffee.

"Which is why I made the offer. I've kept my skills up and still believe in my mission, but I can't go out on patrol like I used to. Gotham is still a cesspool of crime and corruption, but my support of the police and particularly good officers like Jim Gordon, has changed it over the years. You can trust him and his crew if no one else. I've kept my ear to the ground here, and abroad. My skills and resources are open to you still, on the same conditions I presented to you. Make Gotham a priority, and protect my family. That's all I ask in return.

"So," he looked them all in the eye, reminding each of them of their small moments with the Bat, "are you still interested?"

The six heroes exchanged looks, not speaking to each other with words or with thoughts. None of them were entirely certain if this was going to work, but the offer was too good to pass up. And, he had 'leveled the playing field', as he put it. They had his greatest secret, and he had theirs. In a way, he was asking to join the League, and making it clear that they needed him just as much as he needed them.

After a minute or two of silence, each of them nodded. Superman turned to Bruce, smiling confidently. "How could we refuse."

"You have a deal Mr. Wayne," Wonder Woman stated evenly.

"Yeah Bats," Hal decided, grinning. "Can't wait to start working with you. And can I get a jet while I'm at it?"

"Everything within reason." Bruce pushed himself out of his chair. "You do have covers to keep after all."

"Does that mean J'onn doesn't get his Oreos?" Flash joked as he and the others also stood up.

This caused the CEO to raise an eyebrow. "Oreos?"

"What?" Flash and GL jokingly gasped. "The great Batman knows each of our names but doesn't know Martian Manhunter's favorite food?"

"For shame!"

A few of the others laughed at the confused scowl on the businessman's face. Superman tried to make it kinder. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure you'll get to know each of us better as time goes on."

The Bat grunted. He led them out of the dining room and to the front entrance as he told them a few more immediate details. "I've already sent a private communications satellite in space for future use. The range covers the entire globe and even our moon. Communicators will be sent to your homes and apartments in the next few days by carrier. Other useful supplies for your cave hideout will be placed at the East Metropolis warehouse district at noon tomorrow. You'll want to install them immediately."

"That was fast," Diana murmured.

"When I want something done, I make sure it happens now," he informed them.

"How do you know about the cave?" Aquaman demanded, not really happy the man knew so much.

That smirk appeared again. "I've kept tabs on each of you, and quite a few others over the years. There's little I don't know going on in the crime fighting community. Professionally that is." He gave them a quick knowing look. "Even knocked a few people off your scents. Particularly yours Kent."

"Really?" High above the confused alien he heard rushing feet coming towards them again.

Bruce nodded. "Luthor is a headache I wish I could remove permanently, but I haven't been able to find a legitimate reason to put him behind bars that isn't circumstantial."

"Wait," Superman started in surprise. "You've dealt with Lex Luthor?"

"Yes." The way it came out made them think he talked to the man on a daily basis, and wanted to really be rid of him. "He and I have met on several occasions, and he's tried to buy me out on certain projects. And he still pretends we were friends back at that boarding school when we're in the same room. He really is a headache to deal with."

"You went to the same school." The billionaire gave the farm boy a tired look. Clearly he didn't want to be reminded of it.

"For about two years. My grandmother had to send me somewhere after my parents' deaths, and it was before Alfred was given full custody."

"What?" The man of steel blinked in surprise while the others exchanged confused glances. Only Aquaman and Martian Manhunter seemed uninterested in this information. A person who dons a cape and cowl at one point or another usually had very interesting childhoods they rather not talk about.

"Another time perhaps," Bruce brushed off the questions about his personal early life quickly as the sounds of rushing feet came closer. Soon four children dressed in very different pajamas were darting towards them. Each set was uniquely different, but very endearing to them. Dick's was the only unmodified one there, the only one who boldly wore Superman pajamas to bed. Both Jason and Cass wore black sets, but each had a bat sewn into the center of their shirts. Jason's was red while Cassandra's was gold. Not to be outdone, Timmy's were blue with a black beetle sewn into his shirt, much like his hero's uniform. Each of them were grinning up at the League excitedly.

"Great! We didn't miss it!" Jason boldly exclaimed. He punched Dick lightly in the arm. "Told ya we'd make it in time."

"Well excuse me for worrying." Dick looked between Superman and Bruce for a moment before pouting a bit. "We aren't going flying tonight are we."

The alien laughed. "I guess not. Maybe next time."

"They can come by any time now right?" The preteen looked desperately over to their dad, begging with his eyes. The others also gave wanting looks to their father, the younger two coming right up to him with their pleading puppy eyes.

The man gave a weak huff before crouching down and picking up both of them in his arms, a smirk playing on his face. "Maybe. It'll be up to them in the future." He looked over to the man of steel, a gentler look in his eyes now than earlier that evening. "You seem to have won their hearts tonight. I hope you don't disappoint them."

"Don't indent to." He and the others nodded, each grinning as they came into the entryway. As each of them came out the door, they said their goodbyes to the kids.

"Take care of yourselves sport."

"Be well little sister."

"Until next time."

"Hey," Jason asked Flash, "did you leave any left over pizza?"

"Uh, no?"

"Darn it!" The kid scowled to the side. "We never get takeout."

"With good reason Master Jason," Alfred chided off to the side.

A few of them laughed as they finished their goodbyes. Now staying still in their father's arms, both Cassandra and Timmy were rubbing their eyes and yawning. Truth be told it was past their bed times. It was high time they left. Hal readied his ring to take Aquaman back to the sea as the others started taking off. Superman lingered a minute longer.

"Well, until next time Mr. Wayne."

"Until then."

"Hey," Dick interrupted them, glaring slightly to make sure he had the hero's attention, "come back soon okay? Don't make us wait three weeks again."

"Dick."

But the alien just laughed. "Alright alright, I'll come by soon. Since you know who I really am, _Batman_," the reporter inside him grinned, "I can assume you know what I do for a living?"

"No exclusives Kent," Bruce bit back with a scowl. "Unless Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne officially meet in the public's eye, we're strangers outside these grounds."

"Meaning he can come over and play as himself anytime?" Dick tried, fishing for a particular answer. Jason was right next to him, the workings of a smile on his lips.

"If he wishes," the man answered tiredly.

"YES!" The boys clapped their hands together, grinning broadly before turning on the man of steel. "This Saturday, eleven a.m.. Be here!"

"What?" Superman couldn't help but to gape at them. Were they serious?

"We'll show you the cave and the grounds and mansion and the cove and the—"

"Dick," Bruce interrupted, "that's enough. I'm certain Superman has other things he needs to do tonight besides hear what you two will show him in a few days."

"Ah come on!"

"Say goodnight and start marching to your bedrooms you two. Lights out at nine."

"But—"

"Now." Both boys rolled their eyes before looking up at the kryptonian again.

"Well, goodnight Superman." "Later Mr. Kent." Both were ushered back inside by their faithful butler, leaving their adoptive father and two younger siblings dozing in his arms as he finished up with the legendary Superman.

"Just how much do they know?" he asked, quite curious now. The way the kids acted around them earlier and then right now made him think they knew more than they should.

"Everything." Bruce looked over the man for a moment. "Dick found out the truth on his own not long after he came here. Like I said before, I had a choice back then. Stay Batman and risk him being an orphan forever, or retire and be the father he needed. Dick wanted to join me in the field believe it or not. Fully retiring I believe has saved his life just as much as mine."

He looked him in the eye, a firm confidence in them hardly seen in anyone else. "I need to put these two to bed. I'll contact you with the supply details tomorrow."

"Alright then. Goodnight Mr. Wayne. Timmy, Cassandra." Superman gave them all a warm smile before flying off into the night like the others had. Somehow the stars seemed to shine a little brighter right then. That night's meeting was going to be a game changer, for all of them.

Wayne, the legendary Batman, was going to help them now from the shadows. Not as a fellow soldier in the field like he once would have, but as a mortal man in the security of a secret base. The man was no longer as intolerable as the others remembered the dark knight being four years ago. And all because he chose to be a Daddy, not a Bat.

Looked like things were just getting started, for all of them.

* * *

A/N: W00T! First installment done! Like i said before, this takes place almost immediately after 'A Father's Request' which is why you had to read that first. This little dinner scene took longer to write than I initially intended. But it covered all the important things. So how'd you like it? =D Please review.

As for the future, I'd like some suggestions for once in my life. If there's a Batman/Nightwing/Teen Titans/Justice League/DC world arch you think would be great to see in this world, suggest it. If there are family scenarios or kid/parent events you want to see happen, suggest it. Pairings... not in your life. Sorry, Bruce isn't going to have a romance with Diana. I already figured out the love life themes he'll be having so there. =P Some things will be out of order time wise with stories, but oh well, I'm trying to make everything work out here. I already have Damian's introduction to the family fully written out, and his is pretty far from cannon at the moment. other events have already been plotted as well. Any arcs you want, please give me a way to read them/read about them so I can do them justice. As for which ones I will do, you'll just have to wait and see. I am all ears, but I will choose which ones I'll do. And as for where you get these arcs, it can be from _anywhere:_ TV, comics, video games, movies, seriously anywhere. I just have to be able to read/see them online for it to work. As for other things, like headcannons or silly scenarios, just give me ideas. I'll pick and choose. May not always give credit (who knows when I'll get them done or how many people will suggest the same thing) but I'll try. Extras will also be posted throughout this fun series.

Now that I'm done rambling, review and suggest away! I'll update when I feel like I have enough of them. Yes, I evil. =P


	2. Timeline

**Daddy, Not Bats Timeline**

Roughly which story goes between which other ones there are. The 'this came before that' page with chapters and links. Always under adjustment. =P

A Father's Request  s/8024980/1/A_Fathers_Request

Not Giving a Hoot

The Evening Everything Changed

Wheels on the Bus

Luthor's Visit

Cooties

Caroling

Prank Calls

Hiccups

Alfred's Helper

School Invasion

Cinderella

Fighting Bullies

Suspension

Grandkids

Visiting Luthor!

Kidnapping Bets

Lonely Child

Skipping

Death Defying Huggles

Super Sitter

The Question

Greens

A Domestic Attempt

Pies and Pumpkins

Sins of the Father

Big Brother's Privilege

LD - Who Did you see?

LD - Demons Lie

LD - The Overdue Arrival

The Temp

Kane Reunion

Demon Bites

Dollies

Jocko Choco

Cat Nip

Grave Visits

DITF - Breaking Birds

Frustrating

DITF - Broken

DITF - Scared Clowns

LPFD - Snapped in Place

Crowded

Kitty Sitting?

Driving Lesson

Battles of the Cowl

Just a Party Right?

No Dating, Only Justice

A Bird and A Cat Walk On A Ledge

Cyber Jerks

Preventing Tornados

Career Counseling

One With the Broom

Kitten Napped

Heroic Halloween

Stalker

Won't Run

Sacrifice Arc

Sacrificial Hearing

Deadly Awakenings

Sacrifice Epilogue


	3. Luthor's Visit

Okay, seriously I read this one amazing fic where Bruce had teenage Tim and Dick with him when Luthor was trying to have a meeting with him. Still cracks me up. i wanted to try it. *evil laugh*

Dick-12 Jason-9 Cass-7 Tim-5

* * *

**Luthor's Visit**

"Superman!"

"Batman!"

"Superman!"

"Batman!"

"Superman!"

"Let's let baldy decide." The nine year old turned to the visiting executive. "Who's better? Batman or Superman?"

Already out of patience, the man ignored him and his twelve year old brother, glaring straight to their father. "Mr. Wayne, I must insist your children wait outside until our meeting is over."

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

He gritted his teeth. "Their constant interruptions are making it difficult for there to be any progress on this project. Don't they have a nanny or something?"

"If you didn't want to entertain any of them Luthor, you should have arrived earlier this morning, when they were in school." The billionaire nudged a crayon back towards his daughter and her coloring pages. The youngest of them tapped away on his ipad, giggling occasionally.

"Uh-opp. Sucks to be you," the eldest said with a grin. He kept getting out of his chair the entire meeting. "Should have come in earlier."

"You're avoiding the question," his brother insisted, glaring slightly. He tugged on Luthor's jacket to make sure he had the man's attention. "Who's better? Batman or Superman?"

"Jason, rule ten," Wayne stated sharply. It was the first time he had corrected his kids the entire afternoon.

Jason let go of the lapel, glaring slightly. His brother laughed wickedly, pointing at him. "Ha! See? I'm not the only one it's meant for!"

"Shut up Dick!" He cast a glare at the sixth grader, not letting him get away with the comment.

"Hey," Dick up his hands up defensively, "I'm just glad I wasn't the one who broke it this time."

"Will you two just knock it off?" Luthor had no patience with children, let alone the Waynes. If this deal wasn't so important in helping him branch out into Gotham, he'd never tolerate such insolence.

Both boys gave him a mild glare before identically folding their arms. "Not until you tell us who you think is better."

"Batman or Superman?"

"I say Superman." Dick grinned impishly as he explained. "He can fly, is the only one of his kind, gets charged by the sun, and is always smiling. Plus he's got a gazillion powers and leads his group of friends. He makes friends everywhere!"

"No way! Batman's way better!" Jason retorted. Excitedly he explained why. "He's dark and mysterious, scares the living daylights out of criminals and has to use his brains to get the job done. He proves anyone can be a hero if they work hard at it. And he doesn't have a wacko weakness like a glowing green rock."

"Yeah, a bullet to the head and—"

"Rule two Dick." There was more bite in Wayne's voice at this one. The kid shrunk back a bit, realizing he said something wrong, though Luthor didn't get it. Jason's eyes grew wide a moment later, clamping his mouth shut instead of taunting his brother. Even the other two's eyes grew wide at the mention of the rule. This was clearly a big one.

"Sorry."

"You meant knife right?" The youngest piped in, trying to save his brother. "A knife in the right spot."

"Yeah Timmy. A knife." Dick's eyes avoided everyone's, realizing something all the sudden. The silent message passed around the room missed the visiting executive, making everyone else uncomfortable.

Jason ended up breaking the ice. "So Bat's weakness is being human while Supe's is being an alien no one can relate to. So who's better Lexie? Superman or Batman?"

The boy's grin turned full throttle on Luthor, bringing him back into the conversation. The man glared at him, not wanting to answer. But this was the source of the whole argument, one stupid debate between two boys over who was better.

Frankly he didn't have any experience with this Batman. As far as he was concerned, the guy was a rumor, a ghost. They never crossed paths before, and sources around Gotham claimed the man was long past gone, if he existed at all. The whole argument was pointless.

"Well?" Jason's impatience nearly matched their visitor's. "Who's better?"

Internally groaning, he answered. "Fine, Superman."

"HA! Told ya!" Dick jibbed, getting his earlier energy back.

His brother just rolled his eyes. "Fine. So we have two Superman fans, two Batman fans, one undecided and a Blue Beetle nut in here. Do you wear Superman undies?"

"Excuse me?" Livid didn't even begin to describe how Luthor felt at this comment.

Bruce gave an exasperated sigh as the other boys snickered, their sister merely smiling in amusement. "Rule six Jason."

"Bet he does," Dick added, a knowing look in his eyes.

"Yeah, with how obsessed he is with the boyscout, I wouldn't be surprised." The trouble maker kept going. "The only question is, boxers or briefs?"

"Jason," Wayne started as Lex's whole face changed to an angry crimson. "What did I just say?"

"My name," he answered cheekily. His siblings choked back another laugh. The younger two even looked away from what they were doing to watch the exchange. Must have been their favorite form of entertainment.

"You know what I meant."

"Really Wayne," Luthor growled, trying to control his rage, "I never thought of you as the kind of person who'd allow for such behavior. Have you considered sending them to boarding school? Or at least hiring a nanny?"

Bruce Wayne eyed the man critically as the other kids laughed at the idea. Really the corporate shark didn't know what was so funny. The richer man finally answered. "I remember boarding school, and hating it. And unless you can find a good nanny with a background in security and field medical training who isn't connected to any corporations or terrorist groups, and isn't interested in getting in my bed, I don't want to hear it.

"Now shall we get on with the meeting or not?" The annoyance in the father's voice wasn't lost on his kids. Jason and Dick were still grinning impishly. Timmy and his sister had gotten bored of what they were doing and were now playing with business cards. The girl in particular was throwing them very creatively into a far off trashcan, wowing the youngest as she did so.

Stiffly Lex nodded, his eyes intense on the older two. "If there are no more interruptions."

Jason spread his hands far apart in his defense. "Hey, you answered the question. I've got nothing else to say to you about it."

"Except about the shorts," Dick poked.

"Look who's talking, pjs."

"They're a classic!" he said in his defense. "And don't pretend you didn't get Alfie to sew that bat on yours and Cass'."

"Not my fault he doesn't have any bat merchandise."

"Enough." Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose, a headache coming on. Both boys exchanged mischievous glances, but did quiet down. "Don't you two have homework or something?"

The kids looked at each other again before nodding in unison, pouting slightly. Both reached over to their backpacks, one tucked on a neighboring chair and the other under the table. With their own papers in front of them to work on, Luthor began to feel satisfied. It was strange to him that the older two were worse behaved than the younger. But then again, those were his business cards, not Wayne's.

"Finally." He woke up his ipad to return to his proposal. "Now as I was saying before, you currently have ownership of Drake Medical, but have not made many advancements in that particular field as of late. As my teams are branching out, finding cures to several different forms of cancer and you have no need of that particular franchise, my proposal is to—"

"I'm afraid I don't really own Drake Medical."

Luthor blinked. Say what? According to all his investigations and reports, Wayne was the primary share holder of Drake Medical, a business that until two years ago was starting to boom. Then the owner died and it went public. Wayne bought all the shares he could, making him the primary owner of this smaller company. And this particular group had the notes and research of one of the best geneticists on the planet. He was hoping to use them to further his cloning experiments.

Wayne though did not seem to be lying. In fact he seemed mildly amused and conflicted when he made this statement. His sons giggled as if it were a private joke, but said nothing. Little Timmy's attention left his card tossing exercise to the two men a little while ago, watching the bald man's confusion with interest.

After a moment of silence, Luthor spoke. "Excuse me?"

"I'm just holding on to the shares until the real owner is ready to take control of his company, if he wants it," Bruce explained. He waved a hand over to the youngest as if it was explanation enough.

The lost look on Lex's face caused a new round of laughter among the older school children. "But you own the majority of its shares."

"Currently," he admitted.

"Then you own it."

"In one sense yes, but not really." Again he motioned towards Timmy. Even Cass was holding back a laugh now.

Lex was running out of patience again. "Would you care to explain?"

Taking a deep breath, Bruce motioned towards the youngest again. "May I introduce Timothy Drake-Wayne, the late Jack and Janet Drake's son. Jack was a friend of mine in school and in his will he left me the responsibility of raising his son and making certain he could manage his company when he is older.

"I'm only holding the shares. They're actually Timmy's."

The little boy waved shyly at Luthor for a moment before looking back to his adoptive father, a smile growing on his face. Luthor just gaped at the boy then to the billionaire. This child? He was the real owner of the company he needed to perfect his cloning projects? He looked like he still wet the bed!

The megalomaniac took a moment to think this over. The kid was five, maybe. He owned the company. Wayne may influence the kid's decisions, a lot, but he didn't control the kid. He didn't even control the older ones! Who cared if they all had interesting backgrounds, this boy was the one he had to get his hands on. The only one he really had to convince.

And he was five. How hard could it be to convince a five year old to let him have a building or two that he probably never saw before?

"I see. Well then, Mr. Drake," this caught the boy's attention immediately. At least he didn't think Wayne was his real name. "How would you like to have a million lollypops?"

"Candy rots your teeth if you have too many," Timmy quickly informed him. "Plus you get dia… dia… bees?"

"Diabetes," Bruce corrected gently.

"Count on Timmy to say no to candy," Jason murmured under his breath. Dick nodded slightly, both keeping their heads down despite wanting to watch the look on Luthor's face.

"Diabetes!" the boy concluded, smiling proudly at the new word he managed to say. He looked over to his sister excitedly. "Can you say diabetes too?"

The girl stopped flicking cards into the trashcan, looking up in thought. She tested her mouth before trying. "Dea…die… dia…bu… beh… beat… betes. Dia…betes. Diabetes!"

"Perfect," Bruce complemented with a kind smile. Her smile glowed as he ruffled her hair gently. "Well done Cassandra. Well done."

"What is 'diabetes'?" Cass asked in curiosity.

"It's when you have too much sugar in you and your body can't have a lot of sugar before it starts shutting down," Timmy explained excitedly. "There's two types too! One's nicer and you don't have to get shots. I don't want diabetes."

Wayne gave a slight laugh at the explanation. "Close enough."

"Then how about a million toy cars?" Luthor was trying to spin it in a way a child would understand, but wasn't making any headway. How did parents do it?

The kid gave him a what?-are-you-crazy look before shaking his head. "Why would I want those? Jason's the one who likes cars."

The older boy shrugged his consent, not leaving his homework for a moment. Timmy continued. "Besides, if I want anything Daddy can get it. Or Alfred can make it. Or we could all make it. I like making things, don't you?"

Lex just stared at the boy, frustration growing inside him again. This kid was being difficult. He could see the amusement growing on Wayne's face too. Infuriating man. He decided to try a different tactic. "How about I just take that annoying company off yours… and Daddy's… hands for a while. You don't really need it."

Timmy gave a little pout, thinking out loud. "Daddy said that I'm too little to know what's right for it yet. He said I should wait until I'm older to make any changes. Until then, business as usual?"

He looked to his father who nodded, satisfaction all over his face. "Business as usual."

The boy nodded, smiling confidently as he looked back to Luthor. "So no. I'm sorry Mr. Luthor, but I'm not big enough to give away my father's conp… comp…any yet. Not even for a million lollypops."

The man stared at the kid in disbelief. A five year old just said no to him. A kindergartener. Said no. To him! To him of all people! The last person to say no to him was Super… wait, no. Bruce Wayne pretty much said no to him just fifteen minutes ago when he wouldn't put his kids outside for the meeting. And it was near impossible getting a hold of the guy to begin with.

He looked over to the infuriating billionaire who gave him a helpless shrug. "I'm afraid the jury has spoken. Drake Medical will stay in my care until Timothy's old enough to decide what to do with it.

"As for the joint arms venture you proposed earlier, the answer remains the same. Not in your life. I don't do guns, for anything. All my military contracts are restricted to defense and non-lethal equipment. I believe the president's new bunker is evidence enough to the proficiency of my people's handiwork." There was a steely tone in the man's words as he wrapped up the meeting. Luthor had nothing to gain by coming there, nothing at all. "I don't see us having a joint venture at this point in time. Unless you wish to talk about explorations or charities, I can't think of why we'd work together right now."

"So it would seem." Lex looked coolly at the younger man, quietly wondering if he was a manipulative businessman posing as a father just to keep control of smaller companies around Gotham. This… man-child… pretty much ruled this city, but not in the way Lex did Metropolis. And he couldn't get a single foothold in it. Wayne's new ownership of the Daily Planet and other Metropolis companies unnerved him. Wayne was moving in on his turf, but Luthor couldn't touch his. Not even a little.

He hid his frustration with a smile. It was easier keeping his cool with business matters over children after all. "Well, that being the case, I hope to see you in Washington at the next President's Ball. By then I'm certain we can agree on something to work on together."

Bruce smiled like he did as they both rose from their seats politely. As he moved around the table dividing them, he offered his hand. "Maybe so. Which weekend is it again?"

"August second," Luthor stated, taking it as the formality required him. Instantly the kids perked up at the date.

"But Dad!" Jason reminded him with a whine, "That's my birthday! You promised we'd—"

"I didn't forget," the father interrupted, smirking. "But I'll have to make an appearance. This is the president we're dealing with you know."

The kid made a disgruntled pout, then went back to his homework, muttering something about broken promises. His dad ruffled his hair absentmindedly before looking back to Luthor. "Until then."

Taking that as his cue, Lex Luthor gladly made his way out of the office and all the misfit kids inside who somehow made a family. Bruce looked over each of his kids for a moment, waiting for the door to close and footsteps to die away before grinning at them.

"Nicely done."

"Think we gave the League enough time?" Dick asked quickly, looking away from his homework. "We could run out and ask him what other kind of underwear he has."

"Still bet its all Superman brand," Jason murmured. He was still upset something else was going to happen on his birthday.

"Rule six," Bruce reminded him again.

The kid gave him an are-you-kidding-me look. "You said distract him. Short of getting him a Playboy, asking about his undies is probably the most distracting thing in the world."

"What's a playboy?" Timmy asked innocently. Cassandra cocked her head in interest as well. Dick covered his mouth to stop from laughing while Jason looked away, knowing he was in trouble now.

Bruce just sighed, shaking his head while he reached for his earpiece. "I'll explain when you're older. B to Flash. Cue Ball has left the building."

"Got it. I'll tell the others," the other end said in his ear.

He looked back towards the older boys for a moment, knowing what was going on behind their eyes. Bruce smirked. "Mind doing the kids one quick favor? Check his drawers and see if he really has Superman underwear. Find out if he wears boxers or briefs."

* * *

A/N: *diez laughing* I read a few comics where certain villains obsessed with particular heroes wore their brand of underwear. and considering Luthor eventually kinda has a child with supes... *snicker* sorry, had to be done. and of course Jason would be the one to bring it up. I have a list of the rules (could only come up with ten standard ones so far) mentioned in this one and will be brought up in others. I'll post it later.

I think this is the most I have Cass speaking so far. Drake Medical was a building I found on the maps of Gotham when I was doing research for 'Where's Robin?' and I just assumed that was one of Jack's businesses. *shrugs* it'd explain why Tim had the know-how and capabilities to try cloning Conner without alerting Bruce. Oh, and I wrote this before the previous chapter. So Luthor isn't trying to be chummy. XP

Hope you've enjoyed! suggestions and comments still wanted


	4. Caroling

Honestly, this was something I did Saturday night, this exact piece. Not the story, the... oh you'll see.

Dick-13(?) Jason-9 Cass-7 Tim-5

* * *

**Caroling**

Dick was bored. That was his only defense.

"Mele Kalikimaka is the thing to say, on a bright Hawaiian Christmas day. That's the island greeting that we send to you, from the land where palm trees sway. Here we know that Christmas will be green and bright; the sun to shine by day and all the stars at night. Mele Kalikimaka is Hawaii's way, to say Merry Christmas, to you."

Cass looked over her book and raised an eyebrow as the teenager waltzed past her. Or rather danced, very badly. Was that even dancing? Why was he singing? She decided to just let it be, since he wasn't going to stay nearby anyway, and went back to her reading assignment.

Tim was the next one to hear him. "Mele Kalikimaka is the thing to say, on a bright Hawaiian Christmas day. That's the island greeting that we send to you, from the land where palm trees sway. Here we know that Christmas will be green and bright; the sun to shine by day and all the stars at night. Mele Kalikimaka is Hawaii's way, to say Merry Christmas, to you."

Instantly the kid was getting excited. Wasn't there a law somewhere saying Christmas songs couldn't be sung until it was near? And Dick was really good about following rules and laws and stuff. So Christmas was coming! Within seconds the kid was off running to find decorations so he could bring the holiday closer. His brother didn't even see him when he took off.

"Alfred! When are we getting the tree?"

When Jason heard it, he actually did something. "Mele Kalikimaka is the thing to say, on a bright Hawaiian Christmas day. That's the island greeting that we send to you, from the land where palm trees sway. Here we know that Christmas will be green and bright; the sun-"

"Dude, what are you doing?"

"Singing." And he kept going. "-to shine by day and all the stars at night. Mele Kalikimaka is Hawaii's way, to say Merry Christmas, to you."

Confused, he tried again. "Why?"

"Just because." Dick grinned impishly at him.

"It's July."

"So?" The preteen continued to dance as if he was still hearing the song. Looked like he was going to sing again too.

The nine year old just gave him one of his many you're-a-dork looks. "What are you doing singing some lame Christmas carol in July?"

"Being really bored." That was painfully obvious. "Besides, Mele Kalikimaka is fun to say. Mele Kalikimaka is the thing to say, on a bright Hawaiian Christmas day. That's the island greeting that we send to you, from the land where palm trees sway. Here we know that Christmas will be green and bright; the sun to shine by day and all the stars at night. Mele Kalikimaka is Hawaii's way, to say Merry Christmas, a very Merry Christmas, a very, very, Merry Christmas, to you."

"Riiiiggghhhtttt…." He kept up his stare as the teen finished up the song, a little dancing included. What a dork.

"Come on! Join me!" The young acrobat grinned. "We can bug Bruce with it together!"

For a good minute Jason just stared at his older brother, then gave a shrug. Five minutes later they were both singing at the top of their lungs in the batcave. "Mele Kalikimaka is the thing to say…"

* * *

A/N: honestly, I have no idea why i started singing Mele kalikimaka, other than the fact that it's so much fun to say. Had to look up the lyrics but it was so worth it. When I was little, my sister told me i couldn't play any Christmas songs until after thanksgiving. Black Friday was the day to start decorating and singing carols. She wouldn't even let me practice playing carols until then either (piano). so I really relate to Tim here as a kid. I bet we've all looked at our siblings as if they're crazy, and either ignored them or joined in. And if it's to bug mom and dad... *evil grin*

Now I think I'll do something new. You want a new 'chapter', I want 20 about reviews for every story. If it's an arc, I'll finish the arc before demanding a certain number of reviews. but i'd like to keep it review wise 20:1 So... if you want another funny one faster, review! If you want the tragic/angsty/dramaville/based off of comics ones (which are coming) review! The more reviews, the faster they come. Spread the word. =P


	5. Wayne Rules

**You wanted 'em, you got 'em. Can add to, but these are key right now.**

**Wayne Rules**

1- Alfred's Word is Law

2- No speaking of, using of, or anything to do with firearms (guns) in Bruce's presence or on manor grounds. Alfred and on duty police men are the only exceptions. This includes super soakers, laser tag, nerf guns, and shooting games. You will not be getting any of them, ever.

3- Night lives, past or present, of any individuals are never to be mentioned around those not involved.

4- Always have your tracer and phone on. How can we find any of you if you're kidnapped? Report in to someone we know so we know you're alive when you don't want to be around anyone for a while. Stay on the grid.

5- When kidnapped, become as small and unnoticeable as possible, then find a way out. If they keep their attention on you, wait until you're alone with one of them before making a move to escape. Well behaved captives are left alone longer than smart mouthed kids, and aren't harmed near as much. Don't bother with revenge, just get out of there and somewhere safe as fast as possible. We can track them down later.

6- There are inappropriate subjects out there. Do not talk about them, especially around younger siblings and in public. This includes potty humor and R rated material. Refer to rule 1

7- Keep pranks simple and within manor grounds. If you have to pull them, don't involve anyone outside the family, and never bring Alfred in on it. No property damages. Refer to rule 1

8- During your fights, keep it one on one. Do not use hard or sharp weapons, in any manner. Remember your strength and never cause permanent harm to your opponent. If anything breaks, the fight ends. If anyone else gets hurt, the fight ends. Never throw punches in public, especially at school or charity events. Only kidnappers are the exceptions to this rule. Take them out hard and fast when needed. Refer to rule 1

9- The furniture and banisters are not toys or jungle gyms. Do not jump off of, swing on, slide down, climb up or use any fixture outside of how they were meant to be used. Also do not juggle smaller house hold items, like vases or glass figurines. Refer to rule 1

10. Most people do not like being touched, hugged, or used as a jungle gym. Unless you are familiar with the person in question, leave them alone. Tapping people on the shoulder is the best way to get a person's attention, not pulling on their clothes or cape or hair, and never by using them as a spring board. Refer to rule 1


	6. Fighting Bullies

Dude, that last bit with the rules, that was an extra, a reference page. No story with that one. You can have fun coming up with reasons, I'll just show you them breaking the rules. =P

Now for this one, I have to say, it's my way of talking about an issue everyone's been going nuts over on tv for a bit. and what I think of their methods. Don't agree, oh well. I'll explain later.

Dick-13 Jason-10 Cass-8 Tim-6

* * *

**Fighting Bullies**

Bruce Wayne knew his children were talented. They were fast, clever, strong willed and had unbelievable senses of justice. He just didn't think they would be coordinated for anything but playing a trick on their father or going to dinner or bugging Alfred for treats.

Maybe each and every one being sent to the principal's office by the end of the day was their new prank. But somehow he doubted it.

Adjusting his tie as he walked, Bruce tried to remove the semi-permanent scowl on his face. Dick and his principal were transferred to the elementary school next door to shorten the talks and help him keep an eye on these trouble makers. It was going to be a very long talk, no matter what they did.

Worst yet, according to the calls, each of them were in trouble for fighting. That was the hard part for him to believe. Jason getting sent there like this, he could definitely believe that. Dick used to see the vice principal at the elementary school every other month for fighting a couple years back, and junior high was harder; he could definitely see him reverting. But Cassandra and Timmy weren't the kind to start a fight or jump into one. And Timmy was six. Why would he be fighting?

As these thoughts buzzed around in Bruce's mind, he made it to the door leading into the main offices. He stopped short of opening it all the way when he heard his kids talking excitedly.

"You should have seen it!" Dick's voice beamed with pride. "It was like, hachwa! Kapow! Boom and splat! Deric Stovers never saw it coming."

"Well I know Mikey didn't see my foot when it got his teeth," Jason bragged. "And Billy, and Madson, they were begging for me to stop when that guard finally showed up."

"Ha! I beat you there!" Dick countered. "I KOed all three of them before security got there."

"Please!" his brother scoffed. "You weren't fighting off five guys at once! And I had it way under control. Given a few more minutes and they would have been out cold."

"Not a chance. I totally beat you. All three were taken to the hospital. You only got two there."

"At least mine made it to the hospital," Jason joked. "Timmy's just went to the nurse."

"IT WASN'T A FIGHT!" Timmy screeched, almost in panic mode.

"You don't think so," Jason stated flatly, "but the school says it was, so it was."

"Ah, go easy on him Jay. It's his first time getting in trouble like this." Dick was trying to be kind to the youngest of them. "If he says it wasn't a fight, it wasn't a fight. Besides, only the other kid got hurt anyway, right?"

"One punch and I walked away!" their little brother insisted. "His nose was bleeding."

"Must have been some punch. What do you think Cass? Was it a fight?" There was no verbal response but Jason continued a moment later anyway. "What about Dick and me? Our fights. Who won?"

"I did," Cassandra's voice soon came out. There was neither pride nor loathing in her voice, just a simple statement.

"You only had one guy," Dick stated flatly, "and no bruises to show for it. How does that even qualify?"

"He went to hospital. He adult. Fainted. Broken arm."

There was a moment off silence behind the door. Bruce's eyebrows raised for a moment. He clearly wasn't told any of the details concerning the fights. Dick fought three and were sent to the hospital. Jason five, two in the hospital. Cassandra one, an adult who must have gone to the emergency room. And Timothy really didn't have a fight, just gave out a single blow.

There was clearly more to what happened than what met the eye.

"Dang." Dick murmured. "She may have topped us. I don't think I broke anything. You?"

"A few teeth? Maybe some noses?" Jason offered. Bruce decided to slip in the hallway then.

"Noses don't count," Dick insisted.

Bruce looked over them all from a distance, coming first to the exasperated secretary's desk first to alert the principals he had arrived. Dick was propped on the top of a chair, ignoring the seat entirely as he balanced on its edge. Jason sat on his backwards, hugging the back as he watched Dick's balancing act. Cassandra sat across from them properly, as if just waiting to be called on for a question. Timmy curled up, hugging his knees on his chair, looking thoroughly miserable. While it was clear the youngest felt bad about what had happened and cried from it, the other three had no guilt on their faces and merely seemed bored.

None of them looked horribly injured. Cass and Timmy didn't have a scratch on them. Jason had a few new bruises and a couple Band-Aids, but nothing too bad. And Dick only seemed to have scraped his knuckles and ripped his shirt. If either of them had any other injuries, they didn't show it.

After a few moments more, taking a few files with him and a pen, he approached them. They still hadn't noticed his entrance.

"Why not?" Jason objected.

"They bleed and break too easy," Dick explained. "They're also easy to fix. Besides, I remember breaking Tony Field's nose back in fourth grade. Didn't even go to the doctors for it. Nurse Bette fixed it in five minutes flat."

"One actually," Bruce interrupted, making each of them jerk in response. Dick nearly lost his balance as he and the others looked up at him. His eyes narrowed slightly, icily cold. "She was a field officer in Desert Storm. And breaking someone's nose does count. It's one way to end a fight quickly. I take it that was what you were trying to do Timothy?"

The six year old's lip trembled. They only used his full first name if it was a formal occasion or if he was in trouble. "It wasn't a fight."

"Then what was it?" Timothy wasn't one to pick a fight or lie to them, so there had to be more to the story. Bruce made sure his kids knew they could be honest with him and he'd listen. What they say may even get them out of trouble, so long as it was the truth.

The kid became silent for a little bit before looking back to his knees, crying slightly. "He kept pushing me," Timmy explained, barely keeping his voice working. "He wouldn't stop. So today when he pushed me, I hit him. Just like you told me to. Hit him once and walk away."

They all stared at the kid for a moment before Jason halfway raised his hand. "Wait, is this the same kid you were telling me about the other day?" Timmy nodded, shamefaced.

"Reggie Grayallse?" There was a slight growl in the man's voice as Bruce said the name. Again the kid nodded. Slowly he closed his eyes, remembering what his boy had told him about that bully. Grayallse had persistently pushed Timmy around for the past year or so. Timmy had told his family about it and twice Bruce sent in complaints as were proper procedure. "They haven't done anything to stop him?"

His boy shook his head, not meeting anyone's eyes. Timmy wasn't the kind to strike out when angry or hurt. Scream, cry, and maybe get others to fix things, sure. But he wasn't volatile. The kid had tried peaceful methods with no results. Looked like he finally decided to fight back this time.

To this, Bruce nodded his approval. The boy's eyes lit up as he spoke. "I see. Hopefully this will get him to stop. If not, we'll discuss it later. Cassandra, what happened with you?"

The girl shrunk back slightly, biting her lower lip for a moment before trying to answer. "He touched me."

This won her a few bewildered looks from the rest. Bruce wondered at the statement for a moment before opening the incident report concerting her. Dick and Jason instead questioned away.

"Touched you? Lots of people touch you. You're in a school. Can't escape touching here."

"Yeah, and Dickybird gives you hug attacks all the time. Breaking some guy's arm because he touched you is pretty extreme."

"Your teacher, Mr. Wash, at that." Bruce raised an eyebrow at the man's name. According to the report, they were all doing math related projects in class when her teacher same up beside her to help. Next thing the aid there knew, the man was screaming with his arm broken in three places. Cassandra took responsibility for it, but didn't explain why.

And the answer wasn't what he expected. He looked over the girl again, making sure she wasn't physically injured. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. "Exactly how and where did he touch you? Gesture but do not repeat."

The Asian girl nodded, pointing to the right side of her rear end. Then she made an almost claw-like motion with her hand, a cold intensity coming from her face. Timmy cocked his head as he tried to figure out what she meant. For the others though, it was plainly obvious. Both her older brothers' eyes widened in shock, their jaws dropping wide open. Bruce's eyes narrowed dangerously, his jaw clenching tightly shut to keep his protective growl in. Mr. Wash would have to be dealt with.

But for now, each of them was in trouble. He had to be the responsible adult.

"I see. Though he earned it, breaking his arm in three places was a bit extreme. You should have just twisted his arm and screamed 'don't touch me' instead."

Cassandra looked down, pouting slightly. She wasn't a weak damsel who needed saving all the time, but it wasn't acceptable for her to display her abilities like this either. At least everyone who understood what happened agreed with her. After a moment or two, she nodded her consent.

"I'll settle things with Wash later." Satisfied, Bruce looked over to Jason. "Now, what exactly did you do?"

Jason's emerald eyes shifted between Bruce and Cassandra, becoming a little nervous. "Shouldn't we be more worried about what happened to Cass? I mean, the guy—"

"I'll deal with him later. You on the other hand sent two boys from your grade to the hospital and three to the nurse's office." A frown appeared on his face. "I don't think they were interested in what Wash was."

The rebellious one looked away for a moment, knowing he was caught. He took a breath before trying to spin things his way. "They jumped me. Seriously, I didn't start it. I was minding my own business on the playground when Johnny and his friends jumped me. Figured since they started it I might as well finish it."

"And why did they start it?" Bruce crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. Keeping his mind focused on Jason's fight rather than on Cassandra's lecher of a teacher was difficult but not impossible. Besides ruining the man's career, he was debating what other parts of the man's body he should damage. Then there were other possible victims he'd have to uncover.

Jason's fight. Focus. "Nobody picks a fight without a reason."

The kid looked away again, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "I… might have said something? About all of them being…"

Both his elders gave him exasperated looks while Timmy just blinked in confusion. Cass' lips twitched. "Jason…"

"It was weeks ago!" he insisted. "I swear! All I ever do is talk."

"Say anything else?" The annoyance in their father's voice spoke volumes. It also made the boy shift in his seat.

"Maybe something about their moms… and their dad." A smothered snicker came from Cass' general direction, making Timmy look over to her curiously. The kid was getting very confused. Seeing he had something of a favorable audience, Jason kept going. "Then something about their IQs… Maybe a thing or two about how they looked like girls… I swear Billy wears makeup."

"Jason," Bruce shook his head, "antagonizing people is going to get you killed."

"But I'm still alive!" the boy countered, trying to spin it his way. "That's gotta count for something."

"It means you've had enough training to protect yourself from at least five others roughly the same size and weight as yourself." The man rubbed his eyes in frustration. "It's good you can, but seriously Jason, insulting your classmates like that is not going to help anyone. Least of all you."

"It was two weeks ago!" Jason gestured around him wildly, trying to explain himself. "It's just stuff you say in the bathroom! Besides, they said some pretty bad things themselves."

"Like…" Dick edge on, getting a quick glare from Bruce. Though he too wanted to know, there was the other two to think about. The teenager lifted his hands in his defense, biting back his lips to keep his peace.

"Stuff Alfred would wash my mouth out for," his brother retorted. His eyes shifted over Bruce for a moment before looking away again. "Among other things."

"Who started the debate?" Already the man could see how the talk deteriorated. Jason gave as good as he was given, and in some way defended them. He'd heard the comments before and he didn't want to hear them again. The boy did know how to be discreet when he needed to be.

Jason shrugged. "Kinda fuzzy. Think it started when we were comparing…"

He took one look at Cassandra then Bruce, then coughed loudly, refusing to say a word more about it. "Yeeeaaahhh…. It was two weeks ago… ish. How was I supposed to know they'd jump me now?"

Bruce rolled his eyes slowly, taking deep breaths as he shook his head. Jason caused his own problems. "We'll talk about that mouth of yours later. You really should be glad you could take down all five of them, or you'd be in the hospital right now. Dick, your story before I start dishing out punishments."

The oldest looked at Bruce once before breathing out and locking eyes with the others. "Okay…. So I was just minding my own business, trying to find a quiet tree to sit in and eat lunch when I heard something. A few blows and a yelp or two. So I checked it out. I ended up seeing three guys beating up Trevor Reeves. Deric Stovers, Charles Bates, and Hammy Hill. I've seen them pushing Trevor around before, ever since Charles' girlfriend said he was cute. They had him backed against the building and he doesn't have any training. So I intervened."

To this everyone winced. They all knew Dick's strong sense of justice. There was no way he'd go past someone being mistreated without doing something. If it weren't for Bruce's strong insistence, it was likely he'd be swinging from rooftops as a masked vigilante. He had tried at the beginning to join Batman in the field over making him retire. And the man would be a hypocrite if he didn't approve of Dick's course of action.

"Make a long story short, I jumped in, knocked them all out, then tried to bring Trevor around when security found me. Apparently it was all caught on tape. Why security didn't jump in before I did is beyond me. Thanks to the KOs and split lips, plus I think Trevor got a cracked rib or two from before, they were all sent to the hospital. Since I wasn't bleeding, security took me straight to the principal. That was three hours ago. And we've been waiting here together for the past half hour. Did we interrupt a board meeting?"

Bruce gave him a long look before shaking his head. "Dana held off the call until after. I told your principal to take you here so we could get this over with all at once. Any other reasons those kids are in the hospital?"

Dick looked away, slightly guilty. "Um… one of their heads might have been bleeding after I knocked them against the wall. Scrapes really, but how else was I gonna knock them out?"

The head of the household took in a long breath, looking over all four of them as he thought it over. Three accounts of self defense, and one in defense of another. At the heart of it, they were following what they were taught. He couldn't tell them what they did was wrong. In a way, none of it was wrong. But they did fight at school, or at least broke school rules. And for that they had to be punished.

Too bad. They actually did a pretty good job.

He shook his head, mentally chiding himself as he came up with their punishments. "Alright. I'm going to talk to your principals. No doubt you'll all be suspended then put on probation. You two," looking straight into Jason and Dick's eyes, "need to be on your best behavior at school from now on. At least until the term ends. As much power as I have over the board, I can't keep you from being kicked out of this school. And the next best secured one around Gotham is a boarding school. Believe me when I say, they suck."

Everyone gave a weak chuckle at his comment before claming up again. He kept his gaze on all of them. "After I'm done with them, I have to talk to the other kids' parents. Maybe we can find a peaceful way to settle this. Did you all have to do this on the same day?" Bruce shook his head again, letting out another sigh. "This wouldn't have been as bad if they hadn't happened on school grounds. Remember that next time you're having problems with other students."

The kids nodded, still waiting for the shoe to drop. They knew it would. And it did.

"As for your punishments," Bruce's eyes narrowed over them all, filling them with dread. The first one he'd mention would be the lightest. "No TV, movies, or video games for the next week. I'll have a program running through the network shutting them all down if you try it. This includes your phones, ipads, and other handhelds."

Each of them cringed at this. Though this was the lightest end of the punishments he had planned, he knew it'd particularly hurt Timmy. He was almost addicted to technology. The others would suffer too, but it wouldn't be enough to satisfy the crime.

"Cassandra," he met the young girl's eyes, "you'll be reading a new particular book when I get home, and I want you to read it aloud, the whole thing. I'll have a digital recorder keeping track of your progress."

"But—" she tried to protest, only to be cut off.

"Though you had every reason to break your teacher's arm, it was pretty extreme. Breaking limbs should be reserved for those who try to hurt, maim, or violate you, not those who… just barely touch you. Screaming out in protest would have done just a good a job. I'm not objecting to taking action Cass," he stated, silently supporting her actions, "just to the point you took it.

"Jason," Bruce turned his firm gaze to the second oldest, some bite to his voice. Cassandra had no more protests and just looked down to her feet, pouting. Jason's face was filled with dread. He knew he wasn't going to get off that easy. "You'll be helping Alfred out with the spring cleaning. Particularly in the basement."

"What?" he whined, devastated at his punishment. They all knew what that meant. He'd be stuck cleaning up bat guano and dusting off everything in the cave until the place was spotless. Didn't matter if the place was only used now to help the League out and as a museum. The old Bat Cave was going to be immaculate by the end of this.

"You heard me. If you're going to be suspended, you're going to get something done. You may have been defending yourself," he added just before Jason could protest, "but you provoked them. All of them. You may not have started it but you definitely picked that fight. It's only fair you clean up somebody's mess.

"And Dick." As Jason grumbled under his breath, the circus boy eyed his surrogate father slowly, almost dreading what was to come. Bruce tilted his head to the side before placing his sentence. "You're cleaning the cars, and the motorcycles. All of them. In detail. Inside and out."

"Uuggghh…. Great." Dick slowly stepped off his seat's back to sit in it properly. He knew he wasn't going to get off easy. "Anything else before we get our labor sentences carried out?"

"Yes." Bruce looked over to the principal's office door as it started to finally open, a small mob of angry parents coming out. "All of you have to apologize to their parents for ruining their work days. I need to talk to your principals now and see if Alfred can take you home. I have quite a bit of work left to do."

"But you'll be home for dinner right?" Timmy asked, his eyes almost pleading. His eyes were still red from crying earlier, making him seem twice as needy as usual.

His father couldn't help but place a hand on the boy's head. "I'll try. This… has brought quite a bit of information to light. There are things I need to take care of now. Don't worry, I'll be home soon."

"You better," Jason muttered in a barely audible voice. Bruce deliberately pretended he didn't hear it, but still ruffled the kid's hair in reassurance.

"Now," the man emphasized, looking from the kids to the adults eyeing them maliciously, "go apologize."

"Apologize?" one mother growled. Bruce took in a deep breath. He was hoping he wouldn't have do deal with the parents quite yet. Oh well. "Your brat sent my boy to the hospital!"

"I hear they sent half our kids there!" another one barked.

"Just what are you teaching these mutts?" yet another protested. "Training a personal army are you?"

"Mutts?" Jason stated under his breath. Already each of the Waynes were balling their fists. Timmy pouted more than glared at the people, while Dick took a deep breath, controlling his temper. Bruce kept his face placid. Cass and Jason didn't bother to hide their contempt at the word. They all heard it before. A mishmash family like them wasn't standard among the higher class. Charity cases, trash, fakes, they heard it all. The derogatory terms were endless. They just usually didn't say them in front of Bruce Wayne himself.

As it was, Bruce merely smiled at them. Not the ordinary one he gave the public but the one that was polite enough to pass, yet warned the receiver that they made a terrible mistake. "I'm sorry if my children's defensive reflexes have offended you, but these are dangerous times. They have been taken by psychopaths numerous times and I find being able to escape on your own power tends to increase your survival rate. Since each of their actions were caused in their or another's defense, I believe their actions were quite reasonable."

"Reasonable?" One man protested. "Your son put mine in the hospital!"

"Wouldn't have happened if he hadn't jumped me," Jason murmured darkly, glaring lightly at the man.

"My son did nothing wrong!"

"That is a matter of opinion." Bruce looked over each of the adults, trying to keep his voice neutral. He looked back down to his children. "Now, go apologize for ruining their days and proving their boys are bullies."

"Bullies!" several of them screamed in outrage.

To this he sharply reproved them all, glaring daggers. "Yes, bullies. Dick was defending Trevor from his classmates, Jason was defending himself from five of his, and I've sent several letters of protests about Reggie Grayallse and his behavior towards Timmy over the past year. I believe security footage and school records will support these claims. As nothing has been done to rectify your children's actions," Bruce emphasized every other word, "mine had to act. But their actions have unintentionally ruined the rest of your day. So…"

He looked back down to his boys. All of them were on their feet, giving grudging looks and scowls before looking at the other adults. Timmy was the first one to gain some courage. "Sorry for ruining your day."

"Yeah, sorry about that," Dick said bitterly, not really meeting anyone's eyes. Jason held back saying anything, glaring darkly at the one who called them 'mutts'. Already Bruce knew if the two were in the same room for any amount of time, there would be new bruises on someone.

"Jason…"

"Fine, sorry." He folded his arms in protest as he muttered, "But they earned it."

"So did you with that mouth of yours," his father added, keeping his voice low. Jason gave a half shrug, admitting to it silently. Since Cassandra's 'fight' was with an adult, she didn't have to say sorry to anyone.

"Sorry's not going to cut it Wayne," one man shouted in protest. He pointed a finger at him harshly. "Your kid is a menace! How dare he say—"

"Mr. Grayallse," the elementary school principal finally stepped forward, quickly joined by the secondary school principal, "what Mr. Wayne said is true. I have the reports on my desk and I have seen the footage. Now unless you would all like to embarrass yourselves further, I'd advise you all go home and discharge your children so they can return here in three days."

"My son shouldn't be suspended!" one woman protested, quickly joined by the others. "He's the definition of a gentleman!"

"For pete's sakes…" Dick groaned in his own protest. "Are these people really so blind?"

"Most people won't admit it when they're wrong," Bruce murmured to him, trying to be heard.

"But you always tell us when we do wrong," Jason joined in. "How many times have I been grounded?"

"You want the list?"

"If your sons were indeed gentlemen," the other principal chimed in, "then there wouldn't even be a fight."

"And according to school rules," Dick interrupted, unconsciously showing off, "anyone who's in a fight has to be suspended, regardless of who threw the first punch or if the victim didn't fight back. Mandatory three days minimum."

"Why you little…" one of the parents started. The principal nodded his agreement.

"That's exactly right. It doesn't matter who participated. Everyone loses. Now, each of you and your child will be called in individually in the next few days to discuss matters." The two principals were right back to business. "The hospitals informed us over two hours ago that your children are ready to be discharged. In fact, their injuries were so minor, they didn't even need to be admitted."

"HA! I WIN!" Jason stated eagerly, grinning and pointing to Dick.

"You're not helping," the older boy said through clenched teeth. Bruce silently agreed with him by placing a restrictive hand on Jason's shoulder. The little rebel looked up at his dad then looked away guiltily.

"I still beat five."

"See!" the one father protested, glaring death at the kid. "He's not even sorry!"

"I assure you," Bruce insisted, "he will receive just punishment at home. You should worry about your own son now. All of you."

"Indeed," the visiting principal stated, trying to remain calm. "Now if you would, please leave. Or I will call security to escort you out."

The mob of parents continued to glare at the makeshift family and school authorities before slowly making their way to the exit. "This isn't over," was heard more than once from the crowd. It wasn't until the door shut behind the last of them that anyone started to breathe a little easier.

"I must say Mr. Wayne," the native principal started, "you and your family certainly have a way with people."

"Indeed we do." Bruce released Jason to take his phone out of his pocket. He had to contact Alfred soon. "Now I've already heard their stories and the official reports. Three days suspension for all four of them effective immediately right?"

"Yes sir," one retorted, knowing this was old hat for them. Both Dick and Jason had gotten in trouble before, usually from fighting. "But the matter of their punishment at home is—"

"Dick and Jason are cleaning for the next few days, maybe even a week, Cass has to read a difficult book out loud, and there will be no tv, movies or videogames in the manor for a week for anyone. Is that sufficient?" Alfred's number was ready to dial. He just needed the OK from the principals. "They really should be sent home so we can talk about certain things in detail. Everyone has their homework?"

As the kids gave their affirmatives, one principal stepped forward. "I know we have no right to talk to you about how you discipline them," he started, "but seriously, we need to talk about how to handle bullying. You see, we have this program—"

"Stop bullying, speak up." Bruce eyed him over the phone. "Heard of it. Doesn't work. My father taught me that some times you just need to hit them once in the face, then walk away to make it clear you won't be bullied. Don't be a bully and don't let yourself be bullied. Simple enough. Doing nothing but talk doesn't work on creeps bent on hurting you for their own amusement. Mind if I send the kids home? I really need to talk to you about Mr. Wash and I rather they didn't hear it."

"Ah come on!" The older two protested. Cassandra stepped a little closer, wanting to know more herself. Timmy just cocked his head in curiosity, not really knowing what they were talking about. "Just when it was gonna get good."

"It's this kind of behavior that gets you in trouble to begin with," he told them slowly, annoyance entering his voice. The two pouted in disappointment, looking away sourly. They knew he had a point, but they didn't like it. He looked back to the principals. "Please, if I leave them alone now, they'll only keep congratulating each other and saying one did a better job. They're quite competitive."

"And not really sorry," Dick's principal stated, his eyes narrowing. The man was starting to learn the kid was going to be trouble.

"They were beating up Trevor," Dick retorted, glaring slightly. "What was I supposed to do? Bring popcorn? Tell an adult? Take pictures? You had a security camera on the whole thing and did nothing. He's in the hospital right now and—"

"Enough Dick, you're hurting your case." Bruce looked over to the men almost pleadingly. The elementary principal nodded his consent. He had dealt with Dick since he was eight years old, and he was still dealing with his adoptive siblings. He knew how they could be.

Bruce put the phone to his ear. "Thank you. Alfred, bring the car around to the elementary school. Four to pickup, and they're all grounded. I'll give you the details later if they don't. I'll call in a car when I'm done."

As soon as the call ended, he looked down to his kids. "Take the side entrance to the car. Avoid those parents as much as you can, and any press you spot. I want all your homework done before dinner too. Clear?"

Each of them nodded, some with more enthusiasm than others. Their father nodded and gave a small smile, glad they understood. He gave them the signal to leave and watched the four of them tottle off out the door. Dick stayed close to Timmy to make sure he wasn't left behind, winning a proud smirk from Bruce. Fight though they would, they all watched out for each other.

With the kids out of sight, Bruce turned towards the principals, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Now, before you try convincing me that your 'stop bullying, speak up' program is effective, I'd like to talk to you about Cassandra's teacher, Mr. Anthony Wash."

* * *

A/N: yeah, I don't like the whole 'stop bullying, speak up' thing. I really don't think it works and instead tells kids to be wimps and let someone else take care of their problems. I was subject to bullying way back in elementary school and junior high, so were my siblings. a couple of them got in trouble for standing up for themselves but after that no one messed with them. Me? I mostly ignored them after 8th grade. really, bullying is pretty idiotic and I always thought so. Plus I gained the confidence I needed to not be a victim and people backed off. I think that practiced confidence of 'I will hurt you if you try something' has become habit now and that's why I don't have many dates. *sheepishly looks away*

So the old school "Don't be a bully and don't let yourself be bullied" is how I was raised and how Bruce would be too. Therefore, he'd teach his kids the same thing. one punch in the face or just a show of not being scared is sometimes all a person needs when the bullying is one on one. Multiples on one, get help and made a bit scene. Don't act like a victim and you won't be. That's what I was taught. Took years to actually get it right. Might not be the same in other places on the planet, but where I lived, bullying's really light and it worked.

So yeah, that's my stance on bullying. Thinking of doing a follow up on this one, but haven't written it yet. =P Needless to say, Mr. Wash got what he deserved.


	7. Visiting Luthor!

So yeah, been having computer problems for a while so I bought a new one. I really need to start making more money. Wish I had the guts to submit things to publishers, and the motivation to finish something. *sigh* whatever. This is based off of a head cannon I read others doing. Saw a comic of it too. Thought it was so good, I had to try it. =D

Dick-13 Jason-10 Cass-8 Tim-6

* * *

**Visiting Luthor!**

Bruce was bored. And annoyed. Here he was, stuck in Metropolis with Lex Luthor trying to convince him to join him in yet another venture. He already saw the man's plans and goals. He wanted to use Wayne Tech resources to help take down the man of steel, all under the guise of national defense.

Then he insisted in a tour around his tower to show all the good he's done for the people of Metropolis. Half the thing was made of glass, and the rest made of lead. He could see what the employees were doing within, but Superman could never see what was going on from the outside.

Frankly, Bruce wasn't impressed. The place was too bright for his liking. He preferred the closed quarters offices of Gotham over this place. Easier on the eyes and far less distracting. He spotted at least a dozen workers looking at porn and another ten or so playing games on their computers.

"And this is our computer programming department," Luthor stated proudly. "Several of these young men and women have come up with multiple ways to—"

"AND GO!"

Instantly both heads whipped around to see where the sound was coming from. Through several panes of glass, they could see three boys in rolling office chairs being propelled down the long walkway by fire extinguishers. It looked like they were racing. Cassandra was running after them with a camera in hand, grinning.

"WHEEE!" "GANG WAY!" "HAHAHAHAHA!"

"Pbt!" Bruce quickly slapped a hand over his mouth to stop him from laughing himself silly. Oh, they would wouldn't they.

"Aren't those your children?" Luthor started, a vein straining in his head.

"Indeed they are."

"I thought you left them in child care on the ground floor." The bald man's eyes narrowed dangerously towards the billionaire.

"I did." He tried not to laugh, but hiding his smile was impossible now. "Apparently they escaped. If you'll excuse me."

Quickly the CEO near sprinted to where he anticipated the kids ended up. Once he was out of the corporate shark's hearing, he allowed himself a snicker. As soon as he was out of sight, he full on laughed. As much as he should be angry at those three for acting up, he couldn't be. Their imaginative ways of entertaining themselves never ceased to amaze him. And this one… oh they should have seen the look on Luthor's face.

He managed to regain some control over himself when he finally made it to where the kids were. Dick was helping Timmy off the ground out off his toppled chair while Jason just kept laughing loudly at how well everything pulled off. All four were grinning as Cass continued to take pictures of all of them. The extinguishers were still going off to one side.

Bruce raised an eyebrow as he stood before them, trying to look fierce (and failing). "Okay, whose bright idea was this one?"

Still snickering, Jason and Cass pointed to Dick. The teenager looked up to him a little guiltily before grinning and waving. "Hi Bruce."

He shook his head, despite his clear amusement. "Really Dick, rule 7. You nearly gave Luthor an aneurism."

"YES!" Jason gave Dick a high-five, still grinning from ear to ear while Timmy and Cass just giggled impishly.

"Noooo… not good," he tried to chide them. "You can't just kill him off like that."

"Aneurism's kill?" Timmy asked innocently.

"They can," their father explained, reaching out a hand to help Jason to his feet. "They're similar to strokes."

"Strokes?"

"Heart attacks in the brain."

"Oooohhhh…" The first grader thought it over as he started understanding what had happened. The others were still laughing.

"Like I said," Bruce repeated, "not good. And look at the mess you've made."

The elder two shrugged, still grinning. "The place needed more character."

"Besides, we picked the longest hallway. Those things really pack a punch."

"I bet." The said extinguishers finally ran out of pressure at their feet. "Now are you done playing CO2 cars? I have a tour to finish."

"Then we get dinner and go home right?" Dick begged.

"Right." With Alfred gone on vacation, they didn't really have much choice.

"Can we see Uncle Clark?" The kids were grinning from ear to ear. It'd be nice to see their surrogate uncle again.

"Maybe." A smirk still laid on the man's face. He inclined his head to the mess the boys had made. "Until then, help clean up this mess. Then say sorry to whoever you took those chairs from. Dick, you're in charge. If it isn't taken care of before my meeting's over, you're cleaning the cars again."

"Got it Bruce." The teen gave a quick salute before the man turned around and started heading back. He was another fifteen feet away before he grinned broadly again. Twenty before he started snickering. Man did he love these kids.

* * *

A/N: yeah, this is what happens when I indulge in head cannons and have fun. I haven't a clue where it came from. Yay to giving out aneurysms! It'd be hilarious if he really did die that way. I think it's the kids' goal in life to torture luthor really. =P Haven't forgotten about the follow up story that I talked about doing, just haven't done it yet. Been working on setting up my new laptop all day. Like I said before, not all of these will be in order. Hence the timeline thing for a reference.

See which rule they broke this time? *evil laugh*


	8. Suspension

The next part of Fighting Bullies. Told ya they wouldn't always be in order. =P Wrote this while waiting for the Dark Knight Rises. Awesome movie, think of it as AU and don't read spoilers and you'll be fine. ^^V

Dick-13 Jason-10 Cass-8 Tim-6

* * *

**Suspension**

The balding man really didn't like having to make these house calls, but his job occasionally required it. He really didn't like making them to these big of places. Why did this particular person have to have such a huge house? And Mr. Bruce Wayne at that! Did he really have to do this interview? This assessment? The guy seemed to be on the up and up.

But four suspensions at the same time? Child Services had to take a look at this.

He rang the doorbell and expected to hear shouting. There wasn't any, which immediately caught his interest. Was nobody home? Was this Mr. Wayne taking his kids out on vacation during their time off? Who knew what rich people did when no one was looking. Maybe the tabloids did but he never read them. The misses did.

After a minute or so, he debated ringing it again. But just as his finger reached the button the door opened. An older gentleman, the butler no doubt, answered. "May I help you?"

"Collins Welhm, from Child Services? We were called in by the vice principal of Gotham Academy when she found out all four of the children here were put on suspension. I have a court order here to—"

"That will not be necessary. Please," the butler stepped aside, "do come in. I dare say we've been expecting you."

"Expecting?" The man's man did not answer but offered his hand out to take his coat. He handed it over and followed the butler further into the house, nearly hugging his satchel. "Uh, I need to talk to Mr. Wayne immediately. Then to the children in question."

"Understood sir. If you will just follow me to the parlor." Slowly he was guided through the house, momentarily seeing several large and secluded rooms. The door to the study was barely open and he could hear a small girl's voice reading large words out loud.

"When it is… ex…pead… ant… for re…lo…k..ation…"

Welhm wondered if that was the one girl he was supposed to look into, Cassandra Cain-Wayne. She was taken from an abusive situation after Captain Gordon's daughter found her. Couldn't even talk back then according to the report. Mr. Wayne took her in without question, his most recent adoption. Her birth parents were reportedly still at large, though not together. Did she even know who they were?

He shook his head as he went past. He saw a couple paintings on the wall, some of them familiar from Gotham history books. Wayne was never a name taken lightly and always held some meaning to the people there. And this one seemed to like taking in strays, orphans like himself. He was almost to the parlor when he heard it.

"Why didn't you tell us about it?" a young man demanded shortly.

"It wasn't that important," a teenage voice cracked.

"Dick, your ribs may be cracked. We should take you to see Leslie."

"But I hate going to the doctors!"

"Leslie isn't like other doctors."

"I hate hospitals."

"The clinic isn't like hospitals."

"It still smells like one."

There as some giggling after that one. "You're not helping Timmy."

"But he's right," a little boy's voice pitched in. "They all smell the same."

"Sterile. Clean. Perfect for safely healing someone. Which reminds me, someone needs to finish getting their shots."

"I hate needles!"

"You still need that vaccination."

"But Daddy!"

There was a sharp intake of air then a slight growl in the man's voice. "Dick! What did you do to your shoulder!"

"Nuthin'."

"That wasn't nothing."

Some silence came, just as the butler brought the guest into view. A little boy (Timothy Drake-Wayne if he remembered right from the files) was laying on the floor with a book in front of him. He was watching Mr. Bruce Wayne and a shirtless teenage boy (Richard Grayson, the kid hadn't added Wayne to his name, despite being the oldest) on the couch. A very good first aid kit sat on the coffee table next to them along with the teen's shirt as the man was treating some cleverly hidden bruises on the teen's back and side. Neither the man nor the teen seemed happy about all this, especially since the bruising was very apparent on the kid's side. The shoulder in question was on the side the social worker couldn't see.

Dick cringed. "Okay, I dislocated it while on the bars this morning."

"Who was spotting you?" Bruce was clearly not pleased. He took out some wraps from the kit and gauze, trying to help it heal best he could. He already taped up the kid's ribs.

"Cass."

The man scowled at the kid's back before giving a grudging sigh. "Well, that explains why it's back in place, but you should have wrapped it. And had an adult watching you."

"You were gone and Alfred was busy!" He took in another breath before continuing. "I wanted to get a new routine in before I started on the cars."

"You've had yesterday to start on them. What kept you?" The wrapping was in perfect precision, making the social worker wonder how often he had to apply medical care. Judging from the reports he read, this kid was a dare devil and did nearly everything to get a thrill. Probably got hurt on a daily basis. And judging on how unhappy the man was about the injuries, he wasn't the one who'd make them.

Dick laughed slightly. "Well… Cass was having a hard time reading that book you gave her so I had to dig out a dictionary for her that she'd understand. Then Jason started complaining about cobwebs and nearly fell through one of the rotted beams in the attic and—"

"Fell?" The alarm on the man's face made the kid bite his lip. That was clearly a secret. "Why on earth was he up there to begin with?"

"You told him to help with the spring cleaning and Alfie said it was always best to start from the top down so—"

"Excuse me Master Bruce," the butler started, getting everyone's attention, "but you have a guest."

They all looked up at Welhm, curious. The man was already nervous. He'd been listening in and assessing them already. So far he could confirm one thing: they weren't being abused. Richard was causing his own injuries and his guardian wasn't very happy about it. Wayne was even trying to help him heal and stop him from getting hurt. Richard was trying to be a good big brother by helping out his siblings, even covering for them. And a kid didn't hang about two people like that if they felt they weren't safe. Timothy's presence clinched the option of abuse away.

Same with neglect. Wayne was clearly involved with their lives, even asking questions to know more about what had happened. He knew their interests and he kept taps on what they were doing. The man was with two of them right then, at the end of his work day and not making any excuses to leave at the moment. Both the boys there seemed healthy and happy.

"Can I help you?" There was some defensive annoyance in Mr. Wayne's voice, which honestly he couldn't blame him for.

"I'm sorry to intrude. Collins Welhm, Child Services. I was told to do a follow up assessment because of the multiple suspensions."

"Ah." He looked over Dick's bare torso one last time before handing back his shirt and closing up the first aid kit. "We're not done talking."

"Got it got it." The teen struggled to put the shirt back on and needed some help tugging it over his back. Bruce lended a hand, then motioned to the doorway.

"Call Jason up for dinner and tell him to take a shower first. Timmy, can you grab Cassandra? She should be in the study."

"Got it." Both Timmy and Dick headed back the way the man came, giving him annoyed expressions as they passed by. He could tell already they had dealt with social services before, and didn't like it. It was too bad he had so many bad reputations going with his job. He really was just trying to help people, kids especially.

"Please come on in Mr. Welhm." Wayne put on one of his best smiles, proving what social class he was. Only the rich hid behind smiles when they were mad or annoyed. The visitor quickly shuffled in, giving a small smile of his own. "Have a seat. I'm willing to bet this will take a while."

"Not really," he tried to explain. "I've already done a partial assessment."

"What?" Honest confusion entered the man's face.

"On how you acted when you weren't aware of me being here." He smiled to himself now. People liked him because he wasn't just a social worker, he had a degree in psychiatry. He knew what made people tick. And already he had a good idea what the dynamics of this household was. "I just need to see Jason and Cassandra and then I think I'll be done here."

"I knew you'd want to see Cassandra," the man started, still a bit confused. "I'm lobbying for her teacher's removal."

"Why?" Welhm hadn't heard this part.

"Because he groped her. It was why she broke Wash's arm and was suspended."

At this, the man's eyebrows shot up. Okay, he really didn't know what was going on here. "Oh. And Jason? Why was he suspended?"

To this Bruce took a deep breath for patience. "He was jumped by five others at school and nearly beat them senseless. Course he has quite the mouth on him and antagonized the attackers beforehand but that doesn't justify a fight."

"Really." Another thing the report missed.

"Yes. Jason's currently helping with the cleaning as punishment."

"Do you regularly discipline them by menial labor?" He'd heard of this method before. Made hard workers and usually got the point across without any harm to the child.

"Usually. Dick's cleaning cars and motorcycles. Cass on the other hand has some extra reading practice." Bruce smirked. "Each individual is punished in different ways, depending on what they did and to what extent. Cass needs more practice reading and talking anyway, so two birds…"

"Ah." Welhm had out the files now, looking in on the eldest. "Richard was suspended or participating in a fight involving four others?"

"Dick was defending another classmate. Apparently he took more blows than he let on." He shook a disapproving head. "Would have added them in the incident report if I knew about them. I saw his muscles were sore earlier, before you came in, and was trying to apply some icy hot when I spotted the other wounds. That kid…"

"I can tell." He switched to the youngest's file. "And Timothy. The nature of his fight—"

"Wasn't really a fight. He was bullied for months and finally decided to hit back." The man smirked slightly. "One blow to the nose and he walked away."

"Ah." Things were making sense in the social worker's head. "Alright. You have told them to not fight at school, right?"

"I have a harder time getting them to not fight at home."

To that the man laughed. Cass came in right about then and froze at the sight of a stranger. Welhm smiled at her but she was more focused on getting a sign from her father than from him. Wayne nodded. "It's okay Cass. He's not here to take you away or harm you."

Slowly the girl nodded, then moved around the coffee table to the opposite side of the man, clutching his arm. She was clearly just shy and uneasy around new people. Interesting girl. But she clearly trusted Bruce Wayne, more than him by a long shot.

It was another five minutes before Jason made his appearance, annoyed and wet more than anything. "So, when's dinner? And who the heck are you? "

One good long look at the boy and his attitude was all the social worker felt he needed to confirm his father's statements. The kid was a trouble maker. The bandaids were nothing compared to his jaded glare at them all. He didn't want to be there, not under a microscope. But his dad requested his presence and he came without any argument.

Collin Welhm smiled, standing up. "No one of consequence. Mr. Wayne, I'll assist in that lobbying if you need a child psychologist. My apologies for the intrusion."

"Not at all. I'll walk you out." With that the social worker was led back out of the Wayne Manor, a little more confident now than he was before. With the man gone, all four children converged on their father.

"What the heck was that?"

* * *

A/N: didn't know how to end it and i was kinda out of it when I was typing so I added the last line. I will not ever say I know a thing about Child Services so don't jump me on this guy. Made him up just this once. I just thought someone would be checking up on them since all four were suspended at the same time. Jason was in the Batcave by the way, and it was filthy so he had t wash up before seeing the social worker. Hiding bruises and other injuries is such a bat trait. =P

Well, until I feel like updating again. TTFN!


	9. Kidnapping Bets

Yes, the League hasn't been around lately, but they aren't forgotten! Working on two shorts with Clark being with the kids. Gonna be a bit though. Not really being motivated on my own lately, though the ideas are great. I is pathetic that way. =P You should just see the pile of stories I have to get back to, on my own and here. XP Anywho, the title should explain what's going to happen next. Enjoy! ^^V

Dick-13 Jason-10 Cass-8 Timmy-6

* * *

**Kidnapping Bets**

"Flash."

"No, I'm betting Superman."

"Could be Martian Manhunter."

"No, I'm saying Flash."

"Will you kids just SHUT UP!" The gunman glared death upon them all. Ever since one of them woke up from their chemically induced nap, they'd been talking. First Jason, then Dick, and now Timmy. Cass was still asleep, or pretended to be. She didn't really care much for these situations.

"No."

The joint declaration ticked their captors off a good deal. Dick was the one who elaborated, looking around bored. "After the first dozen times you get kidnapped, the paralyzing fear of it kinda wears off."

"Not to mention you used nylon rope." Jason twisted in his bindings, annoyed among all else. "At least it isn't that hemp rope again. That's a real pain."

"Is that the itchy poking one?" Timmy asked in mild curiosity. "Or the sticky oily one?"

"The itchy poking one that smells like sawdust and mold."

"Oh." Just like Dick the kid was looking around bored. "I need to go to the bathroom."

"Now?" Dick interjected, looking over his shoulder at the youngest there. Timmy nodded emphatically. "Ah cripes. Yo! John-bob! Mind taking Timmy over to the potty? ASAP?"

"Hold it," the jerkwad of a kidnapper ordered darkly.

"Oh trust me, he can't." Jason gave a half scared smirk. "Last time he was taken, he crapped all over his captors. They were begging for him to go home."

"I don't wanna clean that up," Dick started, a bit fearful. "And I don't think you wanna smell it for the next hour or so either."

"I say you have five minutes before he makes a mess of things here," Jason added. "Tick tock doc."

Another thug came over, wide eyed and obviously fearful of what could happen. He got glares from his three other accomplices but he ignored them. Clearly he had more experience with kids. "Okay, let's get you over there."

"Steve!"

"You are fully potty-trained though right?" Steve started, helping Timmy out of his bindings to lead him to the bathroom. The kid nodded. "Good, 'cause I don't wanna wipe any butts."

Quickly the kid was led out of the main room and down a nearby hallway to wherever the bathroom was. They were in some kind of foreclosed home as far as the kids could tell, which was quite nice for a change. Warehouses and basements were becoming cliché. The older three were tied to individual chairs all arranged in a circle with their back facing each other. Their hands were all tied behind them securely. None of the men who held them prisoner could see what their hands were doing, which would forever be their big mistake.

"Well," Jason stared, leaning his head back towards Dick, "I'm glad at least someone here has brains enough to take care of kids. Would have been a pain to deal with that again."

"No kidding." Dick looked over to the doorway Timmy had gone through. Only he could see it. "Think he'll be okay?"

"Timmy? Of course." The traditional troublemaker was so confident it was unnerving the men around them. "He's been taken so many times it's practically routine. Hey, can I get a drink or something? I'm parched."

"What?" the angry gunman started, glaring daggers at them all.

"You heard me, I'm thirsty."

"And I'm kinda hungry," Dick added. "Think we could have some ice cream? Two birds, one stone. Right Jaybird?"

"Whatever Dickybird." They smirked at their silly nicknames then looked back to their captors. "So, ice cream? Chocolate's a fan favorite."

"Vanilla's nice too if you don't have that."

"Loser pays?" the younger joked.

His older brother rolled his eyes. "Naturally. Strawberry sounds good too."

"And make sure it's the unhealthy kind," Jason continued, grinning. "We're always stuck with the too healthy kind at home." A gun barrel rested against his forehead a moment later. "Whoa."

"You better shut up or you're losin' that head of yours." A death glare met the boy's eyes as he made his threat. It didn't phase the kid though. He'd seen worse.

"Then you'd lose one of your meal tickets and get the death penalty instead of ten to twenty. Dad's not exactly nice to those who hurt us." The kid's hardened glare would have startled most people. Those were not the eyes of a ten year old.

"Mac," one of the others warned him. Mac kept his glare on the kid for a good minute before taking the barrel away. A second later he backhanded the kid. Dick jerked his head around angrily at the sound, ready to strike if he weren't bound.

"Ow."

"Just keep your gob shut," the anger management thug started, ready to shoot at a moment's notice. "Good old 'Daddy Wayne' will be payin' up soon and you'll all be home free."

"Hfm. Tell me another one," Jason murmured.

"Jay—"

"All done!" Timmy exclaimed as he came bounding back into the room. Steve was right behind him, ropes ready to tie him up again. "What'd I miss?"

"Oh nothing," Jay started, pretending everything was normal.

"Just Jason nearly getting his head blown off." Dick's sour comment earned him a glare and red tongue poking out at him from the trouble maker and wide eyed look from Timmy.

"Jason! Rule 5!"

The guy rolled his eyes as Steve put Timmy back into his chair and was tied up once again. "I still think it's a dumb rule."

"It's quite effective when you follow it," their big brother informed them.

"Pft. I don't get kidnapped near as often as you two do."

"You make it sound like I make a habit of this." Dick leaned back in his chair, nearly knocking heads with Jaybird.

"Don't you?"

"I don't try," he objected again. "The oldest and youngest just happen to be the bigger targets. We stick out."

"Cass is the only girl," Jay retorted. "She doesn't get taken near as often as we do."

"I… don't think she hasn't been targeted. I think it's because she breaks the arms of all her would-be kidnappers before they can drug her."

"Lucky duck. Wish I were—"

"SHUT UP!" Mac and another were beyond mad at the kids. They wouldn't be quiet. They just had to argue or bring up things they didn't want to hear. They had a devil of a time trying to catch the four of them to begin with, and now they were telling them how one of them hadn't been taken often because of her ability to break arms. Couldn't they just be crying scared little captives who only wanted to go home? Like any ordinary kids?

Not likely.

"I think they forgot the duct tape."

"Mmhmm."

"That's it!" Mac charged at the kids huddled together, ready to take out at least one of them, possibly two. Anything to end the noise.

That was when the roof caved in, and the wall, and a door. Within seconds Superman was between the gunman and the kids. Flash was zooming around the room getting rid of the fire arms. Martian Manhunter phased through the floor, blocking the exit. And Wonder Woman was glaring daggers through her hole in the wall.

"Ah crap."

As the dust settled, all four kids turned around in their chair to watch, their binds already long past undone while they were waiting for their rescuers. Each of them turned off their alarms on their watches and exchanged glances.

"So… who won?"

"Four way tie?" Cass murmured lowly. They all shared a look and shrugged helplessly. Four way tie.

"I still want ice cream," Dick muttered as the last of the crooks were bound up by the rest of the nylon rope used on them.

"We can still get some," Timmy offered.

Flash smirked as he settled in front of them. "You were just held against your wills at gunpoint, and you're talking ice cream. Can't you kids ever take this seriously?"

They all looked at each other then to him and the other Leaguers there. "No"

* * *

A/N: XD yeah, you'd think after the first five or six times they've been kidnapped they'd lose the shocked state other kids would be in. I like the idea of Cass being the quiet dangerous one in the group while the boys chat it up. She was faking being asleep and undoing bonds the whole time BTW. Oh, does anyone know Cass' B-Day? I can't find it on wiki or comic vine. =/ *sigh* Oh well. Dami's would be great to get too.

I have another story all lined up where Dick alone gets kidnapped, but that's way in the future and may end up in the Nightwing section too. Who knows. Having all of them not impressed by kidnappers who aren't psychotic I think is going to be another running gag. Same with them asking for unhealthy foods. XD hope you've enjoyed!


	10. Skipping

I think it's about time someone got some one on one time. And I really think that if Bruce raised them from the beginning, this would have happened.

Tim-6

* * *

**Skipping**

Getting called in to talk to the principal was never a good thing in Bruce's opinion. Nearly every one of his visits to any principal was because of a fight or someone acting up in class. He hated having to deal with the aftermath of it: suspension, groundings, having to reason with other parents, he hated it. The last time he had to visit the principal(s) was because of all four of his children taking on bullies in the same day. Oh the headache that one was.

So being called in by the elementary school's principal was one thing he was not looking forward to. And for Timmy? His youngest? This was not good news at all. Until that one incident, he'd never been called in for him. But he was just six, so it wasn't that surprising.

"Bruce Wayne to see Principal Hayne," he informed the receptionist.

"Ah yes, Mr. Wayne," she started, picking out a yellow sheet. "He'll be seeing you in room four, that way."

"Okay…" that was odd. He'd always gone to the principal's office in the past. The room was something he was accustomed to seeing these days. But he obediently went down the other hallway and looked for the room in question. He saw Timmy sitting with a large book in hand just outside the door. He was clearly enjoying the read.

"The Hobbit?" He questioned as he saw the title. The kid jumped a bit, now realizing he was there.

"Daddy?" Timmy blinked in surprise several times before his dad smiled. "When did you get here?"

"Just now." He gave his son a curious look. "You didn't get in to a fight, right?"

"Nope!" the kid grinned. "I took a test."

"A test?"

"Yep! It was really easy and they said it was to see what my future would be." The boy was excited, nearly bouncing in his seat. He then lifted the book up a bit for him to read the title again. "Then Mrs. Lunt gave me this book to read. It's really good! Ever read it?"

"Once." He looked over his son once again. A test? What kind of test was that? "Isn't this one boring?"

"Nope!" Timmy was grinning as he started talking about it. "It's about a hobbit who meets a wizard and then some dwarves and then some trolls! Did you know trolls turn to stone in sunlight? They're really weird, and stupid."

"Huh." He hadn't read the book in years. But he was certain it was for people at least in their teens, if they wanted to read it. Not that surprising really. Timmy was always reading above his grade level. Jack Drake had his son on the 'my baby can read' program before his passing. "I need to talk to your principal now. Do you know why?"

"Mrs. Lunt said it was because I was too smart."

Too smart? "Okay… I'll ask her about that. Mind staying out here and reading your book? Hopefully it won't take long."

"Can we get ice cream later?" His boy grinned up expectantly at him.

The father smirked, messing with his son's hair. "We'll see."

A minute later he was inside room 4, which was the strangest office he'd been in for quite some time. It looked like someone went to hallmark and used their baby section to decorate the walls. Bruce cast a suspicious look around the room, then to the two people before him. The principal Mr. Hayne he knew well. He had talked to him several times to rectify what both Dick and Jason had done on campus. And currently they were in a joint investigation of one of the teachers there, Cassandra's. The other person he didn't know. A kind, older lady who had to be Mrs. Lunt. He hadn't had the chance to meet her before, but if he remembered the school staff records right, she was a guidance counselor and head of the tutoring program there. What did she have to do with Timmy?

"Mr. Wayne," Hayne offered his hand to him, a proud smile on his face. "I'm so glad you could make it."

"Principal Hayne." He took the man's hand, curiosity all across his face. "May I ask what's going on? Is Timothy in trouble?"

"Trouble, no. In fact," the principal grinned from ear to ear, looking over to the counselor, "he's as far from trouble as possible. Mr. Wayne, meet Mrs. Lunt."

The older woman took his hand gently but still gave a firm shake. "It's a pleasure to meet you at last Mr. Wayne. I've heard so much about you."

"And I've heard nothing about you. "

"That's to be expected I'm afraid." She gave him a weak smile as she sat by her desk, indicating to the others to sit down as well. "After all, when you brought Richard here, he had to be tested first to find the right class for him. He skipped a grade automatically."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Bruce sat down, still confused. Yes Dick was tested before entering the school system. He had to be. His home schooling records were indecisive and made him difficult to place otherwise. His time on the road at the circus though actually increased his education more than anticipated and he landed in a grade a year above his peers.

"Timothy is a very special child." The lady handed a folder filled with papers, drawings and test results really. "He's reading at a ninth grade level, can type better than most adults, and knows times tables."

"He learned those when Jason needed help practicing. He thought it was a number counting game. There was even a rhythm to it." It really wasn't that surprising. Kids learned a lot from their siblings when they really weren't trying. He looked through the file anyway.

"Truth be told Mr. Wayne, Timothy isn't being challenged in his class." Mrs. Lunt smiled kindly. "He finishes all his tasks early and asks for more constantly. His teacher doesn't have anything else to cover with him. According to my assessments, he should be able to handle third grade fairly well, maybe even fourth."

He looked through the tests, his eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. Timmy was getting hundreds left and right. Nothing was too hard for him, not math, not English, not even geology. He had drawings on the sides of certain tests he finished early, showing how bored he was. The kid really didn't have anything to keep him busy.

He thought about how his boy was at home. Always off playing on the computers or reading one of the books from the study. It took Dick's prodding to get him to practice acrobatics or martial arts. Jason would tease and prank him into kidnaping defensive projects. Their hardest task was getting him out of the study to socialize or exercise. The kid always preferred solo tasks over anything else. Course that would change at a moment's notice if his siblings were involved.

"You want to transfer him to third grade?"

"That pretty much sums it up." Mr. Hayne smiled broadly. "Course he'll have to go through a few private tutoring sessions to make sure he's up to speed but that shouldn't take any more than a month or so."

"A month." Would it really only take that long?

"With his skills, he'd be able to cover everything within a month," the lady insisted. "Maybe two. And with your support and assistance, I'm sure he'd be a good student in that class."

"So what do you think Mr. Wayne? " the principal started. "Are you willing to help the little genius' mind develop to its best potential?"

"I'm more worried about his social development." Bruce looked over the papers again then came to a decision. "I need to run this by Timmy first. It should be his choice. But if he decides to change classes," he focused his gaze on the principal, "he has to be in Cassandra's class. She'll get him out of his shell faster."

"Excellent." The two before him grinned. It was important for the school to spit out a few protégées every once in a while. Bruce knew that, but wasn't offended. Timmy's personal development would be a priority for his birth parents as well. And no doubt the kid would like knowing that he could get out of school faster if he did this.

He took the paperwork in hand and stood up, a small smile on his face. "If that is all, I should probably get Timmy home and see what he wants to do."

"Very well Mr. Wayne." The principal took the man's hand before heading towards the door. Wayne shook Mrs. Lunt's hand next before opening the door to greet his little one. Timmy was still reading his book, completely absorbed in the story. "Timothy?"

"GAH!" The kid jumped about a foot off his chair at the sudden sound. He had a hand to his chest, something he must have picked up on TV for when people were startled. "Nearly gave me a heart attack."

"Really." His father smirked as he came forward, grabbing the kid's backpack. "Time to go home."

"Can I keep the book?" Clearly the boy was enjoying himself with the old novel. Mrs. Lunt giggled at the door.

"Of course dear. You can borrow it until you're done."

"I think we have a copy at home actually." Bruce took careful notice where the boy was in the story. "Alfred's quite fond of fantasy novels."

"Oh. Okay." Timmy closed the book then passed it back to its original owner. "Thank you for letting me read it Mrs. Lunt."

"You're very welcome Timothy." She gave the boy a little handshake before looking over to his father again. "Make sure to inform us of your decision by the end of next week. The sooner we get started, the better."

"Understood." Bruce placed a hand on his son's back to guide him out the door.

"What happened in there?" He looked up innocently at his father, still not knowing what had transpired.

"Oh nothing much." The man hid a smile for the moment. "Tell me, are you enjoying your class?"

The kid fidgeted slightly. "Sometimes."

"Does it get boring?" He watched his son as they walked through the colorful halls. It was a short walk to the car but it was one he usually dreaded. It wasn't long until they were outside.

"Uh huh."

"Want to try something a little harder?" The boy cocked his head inquiringly. "That was what the meeting was about. They think you'd like to be in Cassandra's class. They say it may be a challenge for you then. Are you interested?"

The kid thought about it for a long moment as they got into the car. The kid didn't say a single word for a while, scowling in thought, just one of many traits he learned from his family. Bruce let him have all the time in the world to answer as he settled into the driver's seat. He learned from experience that quick answers were usually not their honest ones.

Eventually he answered. "Do I get ice cream if I say yes?"

* * *

A/N: =D yes, Tim gets to skip to third grade. and he'll be in Cassandra's year from now on. Gotta love the boy genius. As for Timmy reading the hobbit, well, since he plays 'wizards and warlocks'(D&D) I'm sure he'd read that too, at an early age. Alfred was caught reading artemis fowl so I'm certain he'd have a copy of Tolking's work too. ^^V

Hmmmm... need to work on the next year of their lives next. Lots of 6 year old Timmy I'm seeing. Need 7 year old adventures. Any other solo adventures for the kids and Bruce you'd like to see? Or duo?


	11. Super Sitter

Many people kinda suggested this one. Kinda. I just thought that if they were left alone with Clark for any amount of time, they'd do something like this.

Dick-14 Jason-11 Cass -9 Tim-7

* * *

**Super Sitter**

"Are you sure you really want to do this?" Bruce gave him a concerned yet bewildered look, really uncertain about something for once in his life.

"I'm positive!" Clark lifted both Dick and Jason off the ground at the same time, much to their delight. "Go to that daddy-daughter dance already. Lois said she always enjoyed it growing up."

"But…" Their wary father eyed his boys and wondered if this was really a good idea. Alfred had a family emergency across the Atlantic and this dance was scheduled weeks ago. He didn't really have many opportunities for one-on-one time with his daughter, and most of the time it was never to do something normal. Father-son campouts were more likely to occur than a daddy-daughter day. Besides, he told Captain Gordon and his daughter they'd join them there.

But that meant leaving three rambunctious boys with the man of steel, his back up sitter. Dick had taken to calling him Uncle Clark and had begged he'd be the backup plan should Alfred be called out for some reason. The guy was even included in Bruce's will now should he and Alfred die before the kids were fully grown. How the alien was made an honorary member of their family he could never guess. Dick just made it happen. And now Bruce was being forced to make him responsible for these three while he fulfilled his promise to his little girl.

"It'll be fine!" Kent insisted, talking past the giggles and tugging of the boys on his arms. They liked making him use his powers, especially since he was always so careful with them. "You'll see. I've babysat before."

"How many?"

"One really," the reporter replied with absolute honestly. "But these guys can mostly take care of themselves right?"

"Right!" Dick agreed fully, anxious for Bruce to leave already.

"Most of us can." Jason grinned down on the pouting Timmy. He didn't like being left behind. "Timmy though will wet the bed."

"NO I WON'T!" the seven year old nearly stomped his foot in anger, his ears turning red.

This teasing brother ignored the comment and looked over to Dick. "Ten bucks says he wets the bed again."

"Jason!" his father tried to reprimand.

"How about your cookie allotment that he won't?" the teen countered.

"Dick…"

"You're on!"

"You two…"

"Dad?" Cassandra tugged on his coat sleeve. She looked rather cute in her violet Chinese dress, her hair tied up loosely in back. "We should go."

"You really should," Dick added, flipping off of their sitter with ease. He received a brief glare from Bruce but that was all. "You'll be late for the contests and dinner and stuff. Babs said there's even face painting at these things."

"Do you really have to go?" Timmy whined. He was probably the only one who didn't have expectations about that night other than missing his father.

Bruce reassessed his options when he saw the boy's quivering lip. He promised Cass he'd make this their special night, but the kid was having nightmares. Jason's teasing wasn't unfounded. But if he changed his mind then and there, he'd be playing favorites and breaking promises. That was something he didn't want to do. He gave a heavy sigh before kneeling down and giving his sad boy a quick hug.

"Yes I do. But you'll see me first thing in the morning, okay?"

Timmy still pouted but nodded anyway. This gained a smile from his father. "Good. Now, promise me you'll keep these two in line. No kryptonite, and I don't want anyone in the cave, is that clear?"

"Darn!" Jason joked, making the kryptonian wary for a moment. "Officer Drake's in charge! We'll never have any fun now!"

"Seriously Bruce, can't you trust us for three hours?" Dick joked as he came towards the little boy. "We'll be fine! Uncle Clark can make Mac 'n Cheese, we'll probably watch a movie, then go to bed. Easy night."

"Right." The disbelieving tone in the man's voice worried Clark for a moment. He came back to his feet, looking over his sitter. There was definite apprehension in his face. "Remember the rules?"

"They're on the fridge," he tried, hoping to ease the man's worries. "Along with yours, Alfred's, Leslie's, Fox's and Gordon's numbers."

"All of them are in bed by eight, got it? No exceptions."

"Got it." It was almost humorous how much of a mother hen this guy could be. Was he really the big scary bat all those years ago?

"And no scary movies." He looked over to Jason especially. "Got it? No horror flicks, none with parents dying, and please! Don't dub over any more children shows with crude jokes. Or you'll be the one changing the bed sheets around here."

This made the boy finally cringe, backing off slightly. "Okay okay… don't have to push it. I'll be good."

"That goes for you too Dick." Bruce switched his gaze to the oldest. "I will know if you break any of these orders."

"We got it!" The teen nearly groaned at the man. Did he have to ruin everything? "We'll be good. Better than when we're with Alfred. Now get going or I'll call Babs and tell her to paint your table bright pink."

Cass snickered at the comment, earning an exasperated look from their dad. He really was worried about this. The dark knight looked back to the man of steel, wondering in part of he'd ever see that face again or if the kids would just tie him up and burn the house down. But he had to trust the man, and pray for the best. "Alright. Bed at eight. No junk food. One movie."

"OKAY!" The older three near shouted in exasperation. Jason gave him a tired look. "Alright, we get it. See ya tomorrow Dad. Have fun Cass." And he walked off without a seeming care in the world.

Dick grinned at the girl too. "Say hi to Babs for me. And Betty if she's there."

"Will do." She tugged on Bruce's sleeve incessantly. "Let's go!"

"Alright." He ruffled Timmy's hair one last time. "Goodnight you guys. And be good."

"G'night Daddy!" The smallest of them murmured as they left for the garage. "Have fun!"

The man looked at the alien one last time and nodded. '_I'm leaving them in your hands. Don't make me regret it_' was almost mentally transmitted between them. The kryptonian gave him a reassuring smile in response and hoped that would be enough for him.

And at last the head of the house hold was gone with his daughter for the night.

"Finally!" Dick grinned and tugged on Timmy's shirt. "I'll put on Sherlock Holmes. You get that microwave popcorn we've been saving."

"Wait, what?" Clark looked down to the teenager and the now grinning seven year old below him.

"Jaybird!" the teen continued as the kid ran off. "Got that order in?"

"Just finished it!" Jason returned to the room, his cell phone returning to inactive mode in his hand. He looked over to their sitter, his impish grin getting bigger by the moment. "There's a Pizza Hut at 20th and Main on the north side with two pizzas waiting for us in twenty minutes. They're already paid for, just need a pickup."

"Remembered breadsticks?"

"Yeah. Unfortunately you can't pre-order ice cream." He grinned at their 'uncle'. "Think you can pick up some small chocolate cups while you're out? It'll only take five minutes tops with your speed and flight."

"Wait a minute…" The man looked between the three boys, each of them getting their own plans together before he even had a chance to give them options. "What's this about pizza? I thought I was going to make Mac 'n Cheese? And is Sherlock Holmes really a child friendly movie? And ice cream? What's going on here?"

"It's simple." The older boys grinned as they explained it to him. "Both Bruce and Alfred are gone and they never let us have takeout or generic foods. Jay and I kinda miss that, and Timmy doesn't know what he's missing. So we thought it'd be a good idea to take this opportunity to have some!"

"It's not that bad," Jason tried to convince him. "We've got olives on the pizza and one's a supreme, and you don't have to pay for them. It's more filling than Mac 'n Cheese and it'll really only take five minutes for you to get them anyway. You get some too, whatever we won't eat. Same with the breadsticks."

"You can choose your own ice cream cup too." Dick grinned impishly. "The only thing you have to do is pick 'em and destroy the evidence. Hopefully Bruce will think we cleaned up after, so long as you take the Mac 'n Cheese box and ingredients with you somewhere. We play this right, Bruce will never know.

"As for the movie," the boys nearly laughed, "we were at the premiere. It's not scary, and more than likely Timmy will be so stuffed from pizza and ice cream that he'll fall asleep before it ends. If not…" he shrugged, "he won't have nightmares. Explosions aren't a problem for him. Its ghosts, goblins, zombies and things like that that'll freak him out."

"We'll be fine." Jason grinned impishly. "So long as you adhere to these terms and don't fink on us. All we have to do is say it was your idea and Dad'll go with it."

"Somehow I doubt that." Clark glared lightly at the two, not happy with the way they manipulated the situation.

"Yeah, me too," Dick admitted. "But look at it another way. You do this and you won't have to cook, we'll be agreeable, and we'll all be in one place for a movie. When it's over, it'll be bed time. Sherlock is one movie we can all agree on. You've seen it before, right?"

"Once…" Okay, the kid was starting to convince him. It would make the night easier, on all of them. He wasn't that good of a cook either. Mac 'n Cheese was just one thing hardly anyone could ruin. For a moment he thought of the list of rules posted on the fridge then all the warnings and instructions Bruce left behind. Well pizza wasn't exactly junk food and these did have vegetables on them. Cups on ice cream, meaning small portions. The kids just wanted to live a little without causing too much trouble. And they did think ahead about the movie….

He gave a relenting sigh before nodding. "Fine. At least I know I won't be bored."

"Like we're boring?"

"Got the popcorn!" Tim ran in waving a couple packets around. "So, when's the pizza getting here?"

* * *

"BUUUUURRRP!" Jason grinned in satisfaction. Uncle Clark had brought home orange soda along with the pizzas and ice creams, making the whole evening that much more fun. It'd been years since he'd had a good soda. Alfred was very much against them. "Beat that one flyboy."

"BuuuuUuuuuuuuUUuurrrrp…"

"Smooth."

Dick was tempted to start doing the ABCs but declined when he saw Tim and Clark napping next to them. They zonked out about three-quarters through the movie, both leaning heavily against each other. It was almost a shame to wake them.

But the movie was over, along with all the extras.

"We need to clean up," the teen stated, looking over to the time. His eyes widened dangerously. "We really need to clean up. Bruce should be back in twenty minutes."

"Crap." Both of them jerked up at the thought and started moving. They piled up the pizza boxes, soda cans, and ice cream cartons in front of the sleeping kryptonian before getting out the vacuum to clean up what popcorn and food bits fell to the floor during their movie. Within ten minutes, the place was nearly spotless, except for the pile of trash.

"I'll get Tim in bed, you wake Supey." Quickly Dick scooped up the kid and dashed upstairs. They only had ten minutes. Their father tended to be on time.

"Sure, leave me with the hard job." Jason didn't know exactly how to wake the super powered being up, but he had to try.

"Uh, Uncle Clark? Mr. Kent? Mind waking up now so we aren't all in big trouble?" There was no response. The kid glared at him.

"Yo, Kal-El. Wake up please." Still nothing. Jason grunted in frustration. "I really don't want to do this…"

He looked around for a moment, making sure no one else was a round before trying anything. Satisfied they were alone, he grinned impishly. "Let's see how you respond to this."

The boy took a step back before dashing forward and leaping onto the man's lap. "KOCK-A-DOODLE-DOO! WAKE IT UP FARM BOY!"

"GAH!" Clark jerked forward in shock, eyes bulging and wild. The evil cackling of the kid on his lap let him put everything together.

The kid still grinned. "Have a nice nap?"

"Jason…"

"Save your lecture for later." Jason clambered off his lap and pointed to the pile of evidence of that night's activities. "We've got a crime scene to cover up. Remember?"

"Ugh…" Kent gripped his forehead before leaning forward, remembering exactly what he had agreed to earlier that evening. Slowly he slid off his glasses and glared at the stack. He kept his heat vision at the perfect intensity so they turned to ash rather than bursting into flames. The boy grinned as he used the vacuum to finish cleaning the stuff up then rushed to put it away. The man rubbed his eyes. "When did I…"

"About when Holmes decided to take a trip down the rabbit hole." Jason quickly put the movie away before doing another visual sweep of the room. "Okay, Dick's putting Timmy in bed, everything's cleaned up… are we forgetting anything?"

"Uh, going to bed yourself?" He raised an eyebrow at the kid. He was lucky Clark didn't make a habit of spanking kids.

"Who'd want to do a thing like that?" The former street rat grinned impishly at the alien before dashing out of the room towards his own. "See ya later Uncle Clark!"

"Right…" The man of steel shook his head tiredly before making his way towards the front of the house to wait for Bruce's return. He could hear the two boys talking briefly about whether or not everything was covered and if they were in the clear. They only prayed it'd be enough to make Bruce not look up the security tapes later. It wasn't until the low rumbling of the garage door opening on the far side of the manor that the two ran to their bedrooms to actually head to bed. It was well past their bedtimes after all.

Clark cracked his neck before heading towards where the billionaire would be coming from. He met up with the man after a few minutes, and he was carrying his tired little girl in at the same time. "Had fun?"

Bruce grunted. He looked over Kent for a minute as he walked inside before asking, "How'd it go?"

"They were really good, honestly." He looked back to where the kids were finally starting to rest. "We had dinner, watched a movie, and then they went to bed. Dick carried Timmy to bed though. Does he normally fall asleep during movies?"

"Only when it's late." He looked over to him calmly. Everything seemed to be in place. "What did you watch?"

"Sherlock Holmes," the reporter answered too quickly. Was that supposed to be a secret?

"Ah." Bruce didn't seem to mind it at least. "Good. I was afraid Jason would bully you into watching 'Exorcist' or something like that. Maybe even 'Zombie Land'."

"So… detectives solving what may be a paranormal crime in London's acceptable?" He was really wondering about this man's tastes. Why were those films even in the house?

The Bat gave him a long look over his daughter's shoulder. "Excuse me, but how many times have we run across cases like that?" He shook his head slightly. "Criminals think if they can cover their crimes with fake paranormal events, magic even, they won't be caught. All trickery, a show, just like Holmes says in the movie."

He stopped in front of the movie room's open doorway, making a quick inspection. After a moment he nodded. "You have babysat before. Even cleaned up."

"They really were on their best behavior." Over all the boys behaved admirably. Other than a fight over who got the last slice of pizza or trying to figure out who had which cup of ice cream, they were really quite good. "You know, I think Dick could babysit them next time. He really kept everyone in line."

The rate at which the blood left Bruce's face could only be called Warp 2. He turned his petrified gaze on the alien as if he were completely insane. "Riiiight. You're talking about the boy who covered my suit in neon green glitter glue when I left him alone in the cave for an hour."

Clark's eyes widened in surprise. Did he really? "How old was he?"

"It was two months ago."

They just locked eyes on each other for a long moment before either of them dared saying another word. "Okay then. Um… I've got patrol to do in Metropolis, and you've got a princess to put in her chambers."

Bruce grunted in response. He started towards the bedrooms, looking back to his friend. "Thanks for tonight."

"No problem." Clark started floating towards one of the nearby windows. "See you at the next meeting?"

"Barring any emergencies." The two nodded in silent agreement before they parted ways. It wasn't until midnight the following day the man of steel realized he forgot to take the Mac 'n Cheese ingredients home with him.

* * *

A/N: heh... so in the end the plan kinda failed. But the boys had fun anyway. Did similar things when I was babysitting, except I gave them what the parents wanted them to eat most of the time. Wish I did the pizza... As for the glitter glue, my friend did that to her dad's briefcase when she was on a sugar high, in high school. I can so see Dick doing that even now.

Almost to one of the arcs. Not sure if I'm keeping ages consistent or not though. ^^; Thanks to whoever told me Cass' B-day. I'll try to keep it in mind when I'm writing things.


	12. LD: Who Did You See?

Here's the first arc! Now, I mentioned something in the first two stories, the first being 'A Father's Request', particularly in the notes, hinting towards this. Let's see who's been paying attention. =D

* * *

**Who Did You See?**

"Hold still."

A second later the man of steel gave a sharp gasp as a needle with a kryptonite tip exited his body. It had been in him nearly the entire evening. Thanks to how little was on the offending weapon it didn't do too much damage but he hated being supported by Diana when they were flying back to safety. Safety and the informal League 'Doctor' Alfred Pennyworth. "Thanks."

"You're very welcome Mr. Kent." The old butler was about to remove the offensive dart from their presence when Bruce reached for it and took a better look.

"Hm. Ra's must be comparing notes with Luthor."

"Must be." Superman winced a little still, just seeing the thing. "Mind just getting rid of it?"

"Later." The billionaire placed the dart in a lead lined box and handed it back to Alfred. "We should get this analyzed first. If there's a factory making them, we can figure out where from the parts. Also that doesn't look like true kryptonite. If someone's able to make synthetic kinds, it could be quite problematic."

"Synthetic…" The alien groaned. "Just what I need. It's bad enough my home planet's determined to kill me. Why did Lois have to put that in print?"

"Would have gone around the underworld within a few years anyway," his friend reminded him, tossing him his shirt in the process. "She just sped up the process and gave you a chance to defend yourself. Now, Ra's Orpheus plan."

Clark stretched, nodding as he made his verbal report. Since Bruce was their main information hub, they had to keep him updated with what they did and/or learned when they acted together. He wanted them to do individual reports for records as well, but being told the facts first hand helped too, and Clark always preferred it. Also gave him a chance to hang out with the kids later. He enjoyed being their 'uncle' as they tended to put it, and that usually meant telling stories and giving out rides. But this time all four of them were in bed in the manor above them. He'd only be able to give his report and then have to head home to get some rest. He had a day job after all.

"Pretty simple really. Ra's was going to use a satellite transmission to start a whole bunch of bombs detonating in his Lazarus Pits. The resulting explosion would make their contents overflow, covering much of the Earth and wiping out billions of lives while rejuvenating the world. You weren't kidding about those weird pits of his. They're really dangerous."

Bruce grunted, looking away slightly. "Ra's lived 600 years because of those pits. Unclear on what they're composed of or how they exist, but they seem to revive the dead or dying while driving them into insanity. They say it's temporary, but if you listen to Ra's—"

"How do you know so much about Ra's Al Ghul?" He always thought it was strange how a person who supposedly retired had so much information on certain shadowy figures around the world. "There really isn't anything on him online, not even a rumor."

"Past dealings." The former Batman didn't meet his eyes. There was more to it but he wouldn't elaborate. These past two years had given the man of steel a good idea when to and when not to press for certain information. "Now, how you prevented it."

Clark nodded, trying to get back on track. "After getting the details, and escaping his deathtrap and army of ninjas, we split up. J'onn and I took care of the satellite while the rest went after all the bombs they could find. Think we missed a few but…"

"Ra's wouldn't have risked his pits without a sure winning strategy." Bruce looked him in the eye again. "You don't need to look for any more of them. Ra's?"

"When we couldn't find any more of the pits," the alien continued, "we returned to that base of his in Calcutta. Place was empty, parts of it blown to pieces. Nothing useful there. Even that nursery was burned to the ground."

"Nursery." To this the man's eyebrows raised in amusement. "Really. Hm." He shook his head looking away, his thoughts clearly elsewhere. There was even a touch of sadness on his face.

"Okay, what's your history with Ra's?" It was the first time the League had dealt with this particular megalomaniac, a special mission Bruce sent them on after 'catching wind' of something he was up to. But it was as clear as day they had more than just past dealings. It had to be—

"Personal." The CEO started to walk away, toward the computer so he could start getting to work on the analysis he was planning on.

"How personal?" Clark followed after him, really curious.

"Just personal." There was some bite to his voice, but the man of steel knew it wasn't really aimed at him. He was getting lessons from Dick on how to read the man. Bruce just didn't want to talk about it. "I need you and the others to map out where each known pit is so we can get rid of them later. There has to be a way to neutralize their effects. Gelatin?"

"Really don't want to talk about it do you?" The kryptonian gave a resigned sigh before throwing his arms up. "Alright fine. You'll get those coordinates in the next couple days. Later."

"How's Talia?"

The question was said in such a low tone, Clark wasn't quite sure if even he heard it. Bruce was already in his computer chair, one hand covering his mouth as he just stared at the screen. The analysis of the dart was already underway and he was watching its progress, nothing really necessary. His eyes though, they were clearly far away, remembering something, or someone.

"Who?"

"Ra's daughter. Talia. How'd she doing?" Bruce's eyes were still on the screen, refusing to look at him. He wasn't scowling though, just thoughtful and a little sad.

"Uhm…" The alien looked up in thought, remembering everything he saw there, even through the walls. "I don't think she was there."

"I see."

There was no change in the man's face, but judging by how his heart seemed to stop for a moment, Clark could only guess he was having a hard time even asking the question. He must have really wanted to know about this Talia. Wait, was Talia his source? Hmmm… Then he remembered something. "Oh, I did see a lady with some kid though."

"Kid?" This took the detective's attention away from the screen and back to the alien visitor. His eyes were alight with curiosity.

"Well, toddler really. They were in that nursery I mentioned." He looked up remembering. "It was really weird since he was the only kid in the whole complex. I can only assume that lady was his mother. Or maybe his nanny. They really didn't look anything alike."

"How old was he?" Bruce's hand fell away from his mouth, nearly gaping at him in disbelief for some reason.

"Um… Not sure. Eighteen months? I don't exactly hang out with a lot of kids Br—"

"Are you sure? Eighteen months? Are you absolutely certain?" The man was at the edge of his seat now, his heart rate going faster by the second. All the alien could do was nod in confusion. "Any distinguishing features? Anything at all?"

"Uh, black hair, mixed decent, mostly Arab, grey eyes? I'm not entirely sure. Why?" Clark could hear the man's heart racing faster and harder as he heard every word. He was even running short of breath, as if something had hit him. "Bruce, what's the matter? Why are you asking about this kid?"

"You're certain the boy's about eighteen months old."

"Pretty sure. Like I said, I'm no expert, but the kid was toddling around and trying to get some cat toy when I did a quick scan of the place." He watched the man's face go from mild shock to disbelief and then, to his surprise, desperation. As if he was just told his parents were alive and he had to see them. "Bruce, what's going on?"

"She lied."

Quickly the detective whipped around to the computer pad and started typing rapidly. The files on Ra's Al Ghul were back up in an instant, displaying many connections and past bases the madman had used. Maps and camera feeds of several different locations around the world appeared on neighboring screens. Like an obsessed stalker, Bruce brought up everything he had on the man, searching for something, anything, to help him out. It really confused the alien next to him.

"Who lied?" The man didn't answer, ignoring him as he typed.. "Bruce, who lied? What does this have to do with that kid?" Still no answer. Frustrated, Clark grabbed the back of the chair and swung the man around to face him. "Bruce, tell me what's going on in that head of yours! You hear about one kid and now you're becoming Mr. Obsessive. You've got four kids already; are you planning on just taking someone else's just because you don't like the people he's with?"

"You don't understand." A death glare was appearing in the man's face. He wanted to get back to his search. He needed to.

"Then make me understand!" the kryptonian demanded. "Explain it to me! Tell me why you're going crazy over a kid I saw at Ra's who may just be one of the worker's there's kid!"

"Because he may be mine!"

This stopped Clark in his tracks. He blinked several times in shock, his grip loosening on the chair as he looked at the furious father before him. What?

Bruce continued, still scowling. "Twenty-five months ago Talia broke off our engagement because she lost our baby!"

"Engagement…."

The mortal man looked away, spinning his chair back towards the computer to save himself some face. "Three years ago, Talia Head, or Al Ghul as I later found out, was my girlfriend. Beautiful, smart, witty, I thought she was perfect. When I gave up being Batman, I also stopped chasing after… certain individuals. And after learning everything about Talia's father, I would have gone back to chasing her if I could. Ra's approached me once as Batman before, as an enemy. When Talia and I became serious, I met her father officially.

"He wanted me to be his heir. To take command of his League of Shadows when he died, and stayed dead. Being his heir also meant being his son-in-law, and frankly I was more interested in Talia than him."

"Talia…"

"She was a different person back then," Bruce continued, trying to defend himself. "We really… Back then she convinced me I could change her father's empire into a force for justice. I had recently adopted Cassandra and she was originally being trained by her father to be Ra's bodyguard. I knew I could change her life, and with a mother figure I thought the boys would be happy.

"For a time, I accepted the offer."

The alien just stared at him in disbelief. Bruce just… he… this guy who was now financing and helping the Justice League more than any other civilian on the planet, had just admitted to originally siding with the madman they just foiled mere hours ago! For a woman! "What the…"

"It was three years ago Kent," he reminded him sharply. "And I took back that offer a few months later. The boys weren't happy about the arrangement and Cassandra only retreated further into her shell. I should have listened to them more." Bruce shook his head gravely, clearly regretting his actions. "One night I stayed with Talia instead of at home. I was drunk, more than I had been before. I hardly remember that night. Next thing I know Talia comes back to me with positive tests results saying she's pregnant and I'm the father. I was already planning on asking her to marry me so…"

He left it hanging as he ran a hand over his head then down his face. His audience just shook his head. This man… But the CEO continued after a moment. "I was excited, and for once the kids were too. None of them have had the chance to hold a newborn and having a baby in the house was something everyone wanted to see. I was trying to have Talia spend more time with them while we set up the nursery here, but she became distant.

"About a month after that night, I was called by her private doctor to come by her place and talk to her. Both of them said she had a miscarriage."

A pang of guilt struck the man of steel's heart as he saw the pain rekindled in the man's face. Thinking he had lost a child of his own blood must have devastated the man. He had friends who had stillborns and miscarriages too. His Ma even had one in his memory. It tore his parents apart back then. Bruce may have slept with the enemy, but he also lost something precious. Or so he was told.

"Talia broke off the engagement then and there. Said she couldn't face me after losing the baby. I tried to change her mind but… she's a stubborn one. I told her to keep the ring, but she sent it back by carrier a few days later. I officially turned down Ra's offer. Three months later, I called you. I haven't heard or seen her since."

Silence stood between the two for a minute or so, filled with anguish and understanding. Clark truly didn't know a thing about Bruce's personal life beyond what his children told him, and he hadn't cared to ask about his romantic experiences. All of those were personal. But he should have suspected something when he asked about Ra's daughter. And the kid… why was the kid there?

Bruce shook his head ruefully. "I should have seen the possibility."

"Come again?"

"Talia's always had a devoted almost childlike love for her father, blindly following him. Though she tried to make me conform to her father's beliefs at one point, I thought… I believed our feelings would over come Ra's rhetoric inside her." He closed his eyes for a moment, putting pieces in place. "Instead, when I started insisting she and I marry properly then live here with the kids… She wanted to sent the boys to boarding schools and continue Cassandra's training. She wanted to obey her father instead of having a real family."

"You think they faked the miscarriage and kept your child, your son, hidden from you?" It was starting to make sense. Eighteen plus nine equaled twenty-seven. Give or take for carrying and differences between children, and the timing for that particular child's existence would be explained. And looking at Bruce and remembering the little boy's face, he could see a resemblance. Same eyes, same hair. He could be his son.

"Highly likely. Why else was that boy at the compound." Bruce went back to typing on the consol. He was determined to get the bottom of this. "Only thing that would synch this is if Talia was there taking care of him. But if she was serious about sending the boys away, she may not be the kind of hands-on mother I was hoping she'd be."

"So a nanny."

"Likely." The man kept typing, trying to find any hint to the whereabouts of that particular little boy. Clark watched him for a moment, the shock of the story wearing off now. Now that Bruce knew his baby could exist, he was determined to get his son back. "We have to find him to confirm."

"Need any help?" The alien rested one arm on the chair, leaning in slightly to prove his offer was serious.

"Later," the father stated flatly, "after I have an idea where to look. I'll be counting on you for extraction."

This made the other man smile. "Alright. How far do you want this to go?"

"Just us for now. I'll tell the kids when we find him. Right Alfred?"

The ever present butler just gave them both a knowing smirk. Clark had nearly forgotten the man was there. "Indeed sir. But I do believe the nursery will need freshening before then."

Bruce nodded, still typing. Clark could hear the man's heart racing, despite being perfectly still. He was excited. Excited and determined. He was going to find his son, and there was no force on the planet that could stop him.

* * *

A/N: yes, the last main cast member is coming! Please welcome Damian with open arms. I've kinda blended the 'Son of the Demon' from the comics and the explanation Talia gave to Bruce about Damian's origins in 'batman and son' together to make this, and make it realistic. Sound good so far? =D Two more allotments in this arch is coming soon, with League visits. Kudos to who ever figures out what LD stands for.

As for the other person Bruce hinted at in his little talk, that was Catwoman. I'm planning on having her return to his life, either before or (likely) after this arch time wise, signifying he's really over Talia, but I need an idea on how to bring Selina in and keep her in. Ideas? I'm already incorporating her in future stories.


	13. LD: Demons Lie

Part two of LD (Little D[amian] for the guessers). Some people have guessed what's gonna happen next. And wow... I'm so glad people are excited for this arch. Uh, just remember, Bruce is "retired" but is still training his kids to defend themselves. if he can't do the same... =D Enjoy

* * *

**Demons Lie**

Silently he slipped through the shadows of the hidden complex. He managed to neatly avoid every guard and zealot in this horrid place. More than likely his target wouldn't be in these dank halls, but in the nicest section near the center of the place. Her father always did favor her with everything her heart could possibly desire.

Only for one brief moment did the roving shadow think he was heard, hiding himself away seconds after to ensure he didn't sound any alarms. This time he needed all the stealth he could get. Good thing he wasn't too out of practice.

Finally he made it to his destination, already plotting his escape route once the alarm was sounded. And he would be causing quite a ruckus. But after four months of searching and nearly three years of blindly believing what he was once told, he intended to make as loud a noise as he could. You just didn't lie to people like that. Especially about that.

The inner sanctum of the fortress had an Arabic princess feel to them. Sheer curtains hung nearly randomly around the marble room. Velvet cushions littered the floor and donned the artistic furniture. A silver tea set rested on the coffee table before one of the lounging chairs, ready for use.

He could see a figure through the many sheer curtains, the person he was looking for. At the moment she was alone, finishing up her luxurious scented bath. He sat down on the chair, poured himself a cup of jasmine tea, and lounged on the cushions, waiting and watching her from a distance. She'd see him soon, and he could wait a few minutes. It'd be worth it to see her face when she finally saw him again after all this time.

It was hard to control his ever racing heart. Last time he saw her, she broke his heart after a stake was already driven through it. Her lie… the last thing she ever really told him… and now he was going to correct that deception. He was going to get the truth.

As the curtains were pushed back or avoided, coming closer to him, he wondered if she still favored those sheer robes she'd wear in her old apartment. When the last curtain parted, he knew she did. Just as beautiful and lustrous as ever.

"Hello Talia."

At his voice her head shot up, eyes wide in surprise. Talia Al Ghul truly had not expected to ever see this man again. "Beloved?"

A mocking smirk stayed on the man's lips. She looked up and down him in surprise. "What are you doing here? How did you get in? And in that… Are you the Batman once more?"

Bruce hadn't worn the uniform in years, hadn't had to since his deal with the League. Being an unknown member and financier had its advantages; not dressing up as Batman was one of them. Only when one of his children were in danger did he dare don cape and cowl before the deal was made. And this time… well, it was partly revenge. Ra's and Talia wanted Batman to be their willing accomplice, not really Bruce Wayne.

"For tonight." He waved a gloved hand over to a nearby seat, motioning to the tea. "Please, sit. The tea is quite excellent. Even Alfred would be impressed."

"You haven't answered my questions." Talia folded her arms defiantly, glaring at him slightly. "How did you get in here?"

"The same way I intend to leave." The Bat took a sip of the tea, teasing her for the moment. He hadn't done this in quite some time. She was a hard act to follow.

"Really detective," she started, "this isn't the time for games."

"You'd be surprised what games I play with the kids," he stated evenly. "Tag and hide-and-seek are very good training methods I find. Ninja in the dark is another popular one. And," his smirk only grew, "I always enjoyed sneaking around my buildings to see if there are any holes in the security. My skills have not deteriorated in the slightest."

"Is that so." She shook her head, taking in a breath before repeating her first question. "Beloved, why are you here? After rejecting Father's offer, he made it clear you two would be enemies. The only reason you haven't been killed is because he believes you may be useful in the future."

"Me," he leaned forward with his empty cup, "or my son?"

As the cup touched the table, the echoing tap filled the room. Batman nearly glared daggers into the woman's eyes. She stiffened slightly, trying her hardest not to break contact. She would not be intimidated.

"Father is not interested in those ill-bred strays you took in Beloved. Only Cassandra was of any interest to him, and you have foiled that."

"Neither of you ever tried to know them. You only saw them as barriers, hindrances on your plans. Distractions. Even Cassandra was nothing more than a tool to you." The dark knight continued to glare up at the lady. It was becoming hard to believe he once loved her. She had changed so much… or maybe he never really knew her. "You were planning on sending them away after we were married."

His ex gave him a superior chiding look. "We're far above them Beloved. They are—"

"You know," he stood up, still glaring at the woman before him, "every time you said 'Beloved' back then, I took it at face value. I thought it meant you loved me, more than anyone."

"I did—"

"More than your father!" His glare intensified as he continued to accuse her. Her taken back look was lost on him. "But that's a lie isn't it. You can't love anyone more than your father."

Talia looked away, pursing her lips and breathing through her nose to calm herself down. "I did love you. I swore my heart to you. But after losing the baby, I couldn't face you."

"Quit lying to me." Now glaring daggers, Batman slowly move around the coffee table separating them so he could confront her properly. He had to confront her about this. "I was more than willing to still marry you even after that. And even the miscarriage was a lie."

Her eyes grew wide for a moment before narrowing with a snap towards him. "How dare you. To insinuate I would—"

"I saw the artificial womb Talia." She nearly stopped breathing at that statement. "I know all about how you transferred our son to it that night. All those scans, all that proof, they were to fool me into believing you really lost the baby. But you didn't. And you used this lie as an excuse to break away from me.

"Why?" It was the one thing he hadn't figured out. As far as he could tell, the two of them were in love then. "Why did you do this? To me? To us?"

Talia's lips tightened for a long minute before she finally answered. "There never was 'just us' Bruce. It was always about something else. Gotham, justice, those children you adopted in your loneliness, you always had to feel needed by someone. When you first learned I was pregnant, you were always hovering over me, talking about how the baby would be. Do you remember how protective you were back then? I was always wearing furs, eating organic foods, forbidden from horseback riding, all because you were worried for my safety and the development of our child!"

She threw her hands up in the air as she continued to glare at him. "It was if you cared more for the baby than me! It was always the children more than me! Even more than your mission! What kept you away from accepting to be my father's heir, couldn't compare to those children!"

"Talia—"

"I did love you Bruce, more than anything. But there were always others on your mind. Always!" Her insistence as she brought out her true thoughts at last brought tears of frustration to her eyes. "And you tried to swallow me up in that world! Tried to make me a mother to those who didn't deserve me! Who weren't ours!

"All I wanted was you. Anything and everything else could fall by the wayside. All you had to do was love me and me alone, and I would have stayed. Forgotten my father and his plans, just to be with you. But you never thought of me the same way I thought of you 'Beloved'."

Batman clenched his jaw for a moment before even trying to reason with her. "I did think of you Talia, often. For over a year after you left I wondered where you went, wondered where I went wrong, wondered how you were holding up after… Ever since we first met my mind would wander to you. There was one time Jason—"

"And there you go," she started, ignoring his try at reason, "telling stories about those lost children you felt obligated to take in. You were always talking about them when we were together!"

"And I was always telling them about you!"

His outburst shut her up for a moment, long enough for the dark knight to run a hand over his cowl. "I was always telling them stories you told me, about your childhood, about your life. I wanted them to know you just as much as I wanted you to know them. That was how serious I was about you. I loved you so much…"

It was hard for him to really express how much it pained him to let her go all those years ago. To think he lost their child… He closed his eyes for a moment. That lie… He had to know why. "I wanted to marry you Talia. I wanted us to be together. All of us, as a family. You didn't have to trick me that night. You didn't have to be pregnant to keep my attention. You had it.

"But," he fixed a glare back upon her, "you had to fake losing our child as an excuse to break-up with me. Why? What was the real point of it all? Why did you—"

"You were controlling and overprotective," Talia spat out, trying to make it his fault again.

And for that part he admitted it. "It was my first born child! I've never been an expecting father before! I didn't know what to expect or what to do! I heard things, read books, but none of it really prepared me. I didn't want anything to happen to you."

"I am a strong woman. I can handle myself."

"So could my mother," he stated quickly. "She still had miscarriages! Before and after me! Nearly lost her life once. Talia, I was both scared and excited. Can you really blame me for overreacting?"

She looked away, keeping her face as still as possible, but Batman could tell what she was thinking. At least once upon a time he could. "I'm sorry for how much I overreacted. I should have had more faith in you back then. But that still does not justify your actions. Talia, why did you do this? Why did you leave with our child and not tell me the truth?"

The woman kept her eyes away from the man, becoming as still as a statue. Silence kept its hold on her, further baffling the detective. After a minute or two, he had to edge her on. "Talia, why did you lie to me? Why are you keeping me away from my son?"

"How do you even know about him?" She finally looked at him. "Father and I have kept ourselves away from him since his birth, kept him far from any prying eyes. He is the Shadows' most well kept secret."

"I have sources." Some dismay played on his face. "You haven't seen our son since his birth?"

"Long enough to name him," she stated coldly. "He will be a fitting heir to both our legacies. Our genetically perfect child. His studies started a month back."

"Studies." Batman took in a deep breath. "Talia, he shouldn't be even two yet. Barely able to walk on his own and say a handful of words clearly. 'Studies' shouldn't even be in his life until he's four or five."

"Never too early to start learning." Her smirk now mocked him. "Our son has much to learn to fill in both yours and my father's shoes."

"Does he even have a say in the matter?" Talia didn't speak, but her expression told him plenty. She thought he was being silly asking for a child's opinion on anything. The dark knight shook his head. "Talia…"

"He will be perfect," she stated flatly. "And he will accept the life prepared for him. One day he will be a fine ruler."

"No." Slowly all the soft bits of humanity seemed to leave him as he glared at her once again. This woman would not see reason and did not understand the first thing about parenting, let alone being human. "My son is going to grow up to be whatever he wishes to be."

"Excuse me?" The lady raised an amused eyebrow.

"I'm taking him home. Right now."

The woman started to laugh. "You are a fool Beloved. The boy isn't even with me. Even I am unsure where he is at the moment. If you think you can just find me and then find him, you have truly lost your touch."

"I've lost nothing but time," Batman stated plainly, looming over her. He was deadly serious and nothing was going to stop him. "It's you and Ra's who have lost your touch."

"Oh really?" Talia folded her arms across her chest, very amused.

"You haven't kept tabs on me. Or my activities." A slight smirk played at the corner of his mouth. Something beeped on him. "I learned quite a bit from the two of you back then, about teams and directing groups."

"Is that supposed to scare me?"

"Yes." The smirk was a smile now. He had received the signal at long last. "I have a League of my own now."

A light appeared inside the lady's mind, surprising her greatly. "You… You're the one telling that Justice League about us!"

"And in return they do small favors for me." Very small on the global scale, but very personal ones at that. Saving his children was one of the League's top concerns. He tipped an imaginary hat to her. "Good-bye Talia. I'll tell our son all about you."

She tried marching after the man as he started to leave. "You can't just—"

"You haven't been in contact with him since his birth," Batman stated evenly, looking over his shoulder to her. "That's neglect, by law a form of child abuse in the states. I have every right to take home my son and raise him properly under these circumstances. And if the courts ever learn about what you and your father truly does, they will give me full rights without any possibility of visiting.

"I'm taking my son home. You lost your chance to raise him with me when you lied about him being dead."

The finality of his words struck Talia through the heart. Batman took the stunned silence as an advantage and swiftly left the room. Getting out of this place would be trickier, but it would be worth it.

* * *

"Seriously?" Flash started as he winced through the crying. "It was that easy?"

Superman held the kid out at arms' length, his wails hurting his ears greatly. "Yeah, seriously. It was that easy. Anyone know how to make him stop?"

"Not me!" the speedster stated quickly. "I've just got a teenage nephew by marriage! Hal?"

"Are you kidding?" The space cop was even more lost than his friend. "My sister-in-law wouldn't even let me hold my nephew for years! Said I'd break him or something."

They looked over to Diana, who scowled at them. "There are no children on Themiscara. And don't think just because I am a woman I should know everything there is about babies."

J'onn flew up to the toddler and tried making faces, speaking to them mentally as he tried to calm the kid's wails. _My daughter was a much calmer child, but I am not certain how human children differ from Martian. Arthur?_

The Atlantian was actually reading a parenting book at the moment. He was expecting his first born soon. He looked up and stumbled just as much as they did. "Uh, maybe it's his diaper?"

"No, that's dry," Superman stated quickly, lifting the toddler up and down a few times in attempts to calm the screaming. "Maybe he's hungry?"

"Oh I think I know!" Hal tried again. "You took him from his maid and the only person he knew and he's scared! That's what's going on!"

"Seriously? Even after the lady practically _gave_ the kid to him?" Flash still couldn't believe the story. All the man of steel did was come into the nursery, told the lady taking care of the kid what was going on, and she just handed the kid over, saying every child deserved to be with their parents, particularly one who would love him unconditionally. Superman offered to take the lady with them, but she refused, saying the Shadows would find her anyway.

"He's like one and a half right?" GL pointed out. "He doesn't understand half the things going on around him. He just knows the person he knew best and most is gone and he's with a bunch of weirdos in tights."

"He's right."

They all jerked their heads around as the unofficial seventh member of the Justice League appeared through the doorway. Batman's uniform was a bit ragged from some kind of fighting and explosion, but he seemed relatively unharmed. They hadn't seen the man dressed like that in years, and yet he still looked by far the most intimidating of them. Yet under that mask and surrounded by kids, he could be one of the most cuddly of characters.

He crossed the main room of Mount Justice quickly, coming straight towards Superman as he explained. "Children need stability in their lives, particularly in their early years. Being taken away from the one who cared for him would put anyone in this state. But Damian should calm down soon enough."

"Damian?" Many of them exchanged looks. No one knew the kid's name until then. Or did the man just name his child then and there? They were expecting him to be called Thomas or something.

"That's his English name." Batman stopped short of Superman's shoulder, looking over the man of steel's grip. "You're holding him wrong. Hand him over."

"Take him. Please. Take your son." Quickly the toddler was thrust into his father's awaiting hands, still crying and yelling at the top of his lungs. "He's been like that ever since the lady handed him over."

"I see." Carefully the Bat drew his boy closer to him, catching his attention at last. The screaming subsided as he stared at the new comer, completely different from the rest. It was more of a surprise value and a little awe than anything else. Batman's lips turning into a warm smile brought the tears to a near stop. "Hello there Damian. I'm your daddy."

The kid just stared at him now, his eyes transfixed on the cowl as if he was trying to look through it. Supporting his boy in one arm, Bruce pulled back the mask to reveal his true face to his son. Smiling at his boy, so glad to finally hold him, he repeated what he said before. "I'm your daddy, your father."

"Fwa… Fwader?" Little Damian looked up to the man innocently, as if both linking the word to him and to something he was told. Perhaps in a story or dream.

And it only made his father proud. He pulled the toddler into his chest and gave him a much wanted hug. "Yes Damian. I'm your father, your daddy. And I'm going to be taking care of you from now on."

At first the little boy did nothing, surprised for some reason, then one hand clutched onto the man's cape and started to nuzzle his shirt in affection. Those around watched in amazement as the two newly united father and son started getting acquainted, so quickly. The man really had a magical touch with children, and seemed to work faster with his own flesh and blood.

Bruce looked over to the others there, particularly to Superman and gave a very gracious smile. "Thank you."

* * *

A/N: honestly didn't know how to end it. One more part before this arch is over!

Uh, yeah, um... I dunno if anyone caught it, but the whole conversation between Talia and Bats would be incredibly awkward if it weren't in text format. *looks away embarrassed* I just remember in one Talia story she wore sheer clothes in her chambers. The place had an arabic princess feel to them too. Yes I put Batman in costume again, he does wear it on occasion when the situation calls for it. It's also his backup Halloween costume, so long as he smiles and uses his normal voice. =P bats is only "retired" after all *coughnotreallycough*

Now for Dami, I gave him the cute can't-quite-understand-him two year old speech pattern for now. Eventually he'll say Daddy instead of Fwader though. He just knows about fathers from stories his maid told him. Heard about him being raised by a maid from another fanfic and thought since Talia really didn't raise Dami it made sense. Also I remember seeing little kids left alone in nurseries and crying their heads off until someone similar to their mom or dad popped up. Thought with Dami's personality in the comics, he'd do the same until his real father appeared. It'll take a while before he's adjusted to his new world. Oh, if anyone knows when Damian's Bday is, please tell. So far I'm putting him in October

can't wait until the kids see him. ^^V


	14. LD: The Overdue Arrival

Glad you guys are liking Damian's entrance into the batfamily. But this is where I got a little confused with ages. This is between Jason and Timmy's B-days and I'm not entirely sure if Cass is closer to Jason or Tim in age. *shrug* doesn't matter that much. Enjoy the kids' reactions to Dami! And how they first found out.

Dick-15 Jason-11 Cass-9/10(?) Timmy-8 Damian-21mo

* * *

**The Overdue Arrival**

Dick and the others were buzzing around the house excitedly, trying to make sure everything was ready. The place hadn't been this active since the League first agreed to work with Bruce over two years ago. And even then it wasn't quite this active, nor this nervous.

All of the commotion started though probably three months ago, when the four adopted children of Bruce Wayne came together one day to compare notes. Their dad had been acting strange lately, strange for him that is. Bruce had always been the obsessive-reclusive type, but for about a month straight he was nearly always gone. And for a man whose greatest obsession and joy in life is his children, his actions were truly bizarre. His mind would wander and he'd look off into space while he was around them. Sometimes he was scowling at the air. And when he wasn't with them or at work, he was in the cave working on some obscure project he wouldn't talk about.

That alone wasn't the only thing going weird in the manor. Each and every one of the children spotted Alfred going in and out of the old nursery, with cleaning supplies and even bags from several stores. It was considered very strange mostly because the room hadn't been used since Timmy was five and the last time it was even unlocked was when Bruce was engaged to the evil demon princess Talia and she was expecting a baby. That was nearly three years ago. Their father locked the door in near tears himself and wouldn't talk about it.

"We need to get in that room," Jason stated flatly, earning nods from the rest of them. "It's the only way to make sure."

"Do you really think he's adopting someone else?" Timmy asked nervously. He wasn't sure if he wanted a younger sibling now. Nearing eight, he was used to being the baby of the family, and liked it. Not that he'd hate whoever could come along, but he didn't want to lose his place in the family either. What if Daddy didn't love him anymore?

Cassandra shrugged. "Maybe. That room is for babies, isn't it?"

"Anyone under the age of five," Dick stated evenly, looking out the door to make sure the coast was clear. So far no Alfred. And judging by the smells, the old man was in the kitchen. Bruce wasn't due back until six at the earliest. "I think only Tim's used it since Bruce's day. Come on."

The four of them hurried three doors down and settled in front of the rarely used door. It was two away from the master bedroom (which was more like a mini apartment minus kitchen and laundry rooms) and three away from everyone else's. They got to choose their rooms. But this one was reserved just for the infants and toddlers that happened to live there. Apparently it was rarely ever used, like many of the rooms there.

Jason knelt before the lock and started tinkering around with it and a wire. Dick slipped into one of the neighboring rooms to try a different way in via windows. Cass and Timmy were lookouts, at least until the door was unlocked. It took a few minutes, but just as the last pin was about to give way in the lock, Dick opened it from the inside. He smirked at the preteen's scowl.

"I nearly had it," he growled as he stuffed the wire into his pocket.

"The window was faster." The acrobat thumbed over to the large glass doors leading to a sunny balcony. He had tricked the security system into believing no one had entered, then undid the simple lock on it within a few seconds. Little tricks he picked up after being chained up at a kidnapping. "Get in."

Quickly the three younger siblings darted in and started exploring the place. For the youngest, he felt like he was going down memory lane. "I remember that pony!"

He pointed to a wooden rocking horse not too far off. It was old, but looked like it was recently varnished. Many old wooden toys and fixtures in that room looked like they were recently repaired and renewed. Even some new hard backed picture books were on the shelves. A lifetime supply of diapers and wipes were on the shelves on one side of the room, and everything looked recently cleaned. Everything.

"This is really weird," Jason confirmed, looking around at new soft toys close by. Dick was looking through the new clothes in the nearby drawers. Cass just took one look at them and sighed heavily before browsing through the newer books on the shelves. Timmy had stopped looking for clues and was just playing on the toys he once enjoyed there. He still didn't know why they had to lock up that room and all the fun inside it.

"We're not getting a sister," Cass stated plainly, pouting slightly.

"No, and he's not going to be a baby either." Dick checked the age range on the clothes. "Maybe a two year old? There's a lot of different sizes here, but none for infants. All toddlers."

"But why is Dad acting so weird and secretive?" Jason looked back at everyone as he asked the question. "He didn't when he got Tim or Cass."

"Dunno Jay," their big brother stated. "He was a little nervous when he brought you home, but not like this." He put the clothes away just as he found them and motioned to the others. "Let's go, or Alfred will know we've been snooping."

The following morning they decided to confront their father. "Okay Bruce," Dick started after Timmy had crawled onto the man's lap to keep him there, "who are you adopting?"

The billionaire froze while drinking his morning coffee. "Excuse me?"

"You and Alfred have been fixing up the old nursery," Jason explained, smirking slightly. "Only thing we can figure is that you're adopting another kid."

The man's eyes opened wide, staring at each of his kids before setting his cup down, a glimmer of pride on his face. "Not an adoption. But close."

The older two exchanged confused glances while Timmy looked up at his dad from his seat. It was Cass who spoke next. "Are we having a guest?"

"Colder."

"Are you having a baby?" Timmy asked innocently. His siblings laughed.

"Uh, Timmy," Jason started, grinning, "Mommies have babies."

"There are surrogates," Dick offered, but continued to watch the man's face to see if they were getting closer. All he saw was a growing smirk. "But that's not the case either is it?"

"Warmer."

"You're not getting married, right?" Jason probed. "'Cause last time you had that room open, your evil fiancé was having a baby."

"Haven't heard of any ex-girlfriends claiming pregnancy or illegitimate child lately." The oldest kept his eyes on the twitching on the man's face. He knew the man was glad they figured part of it out, but mentioning the rest right then had hit a sore nerve somehow. "Unless it wasn't lately."

The others gave the teen an inquiring look. He nearly had it and everyone could tell. Bruce gave a slight sigh before giving in. "Not lately. I've been doing a search to make certain before announcing anything. I didn't want to raise your hopes again after last time."

All but the oldest looked at each other in confusion, but donning lit in Dick's eyes. "Talia lied?"

Their father nodded. "Superman saw a young boy at Ra's hideout when they took down his Orpheus Plan. There were no other children in the compound and he is around the right age our child would be. Though there are strong possibilities that Talia lied and kept the baby a secret from me all this time, I couldn't be certain."

"Until now?" Dick edged on, getting excited. He knew how Bruce spoke.

But he shook his head. "Even now I'm not sure," the man stated evenly, "but I do know some things. There is an eighteen month old boy being hidden by the Shadows, hidden and highly protected. There are only a handful of people who even know of his existence, but rumors have come out among some members. Only name I've gotten for the boy is Ibn al Xu'ffasch. It means 'son of the Bat' in Arabic."

"That's a slam dunk if I've ever heard one." The older two were grinning now, both very excited for him. Cass was smiling in her own way but Timmy looked conflicted, troubled even.

"Maybe. Can't be certain until after a DNA test." He locked eyes on Cassandra. "But the League of Shadows is no place to raise a child either way."

"So even if he isn't yours—" Dick started.

"I'll be taking him in anyway." The smile on the man's face put most of them at ease. Blood or no, he wasn't about to leave a child in need behind. He gave the boy in his lap a quick hug, sensing his insecurity at that moment. It made the kid smile for the moment, relieved a bit. "You'll be getting a new baby brother as soon as the League and I find him."

The mishmash family spoke often after that about the new brother they were expecting. It was only a month ago when they learned the kid's English name (something Ra's and Talia used to mix people up should they learn something about him. It was easier to say too). A week when they finally had a list of possible locations for him. They helped cook up a plan for their new brother's extraction too.

So that evening, the four Wayne children were excited and nervous as they waited for their father to return home with their much anticipated new addition. "What do you think he's going to be like?"

"Dunno Cass," Jason told his sister, looking over the trinket he was planning to give the little tyke. It was something of a tradition Dick started when he came to live at the manor. Each of the kids would give the new arrival something for them to cherish. Dick gave him a teddy bear with batwings. Timmy received a stuffed dog with mask like patches over its eyes and Cass was given a large mouse with a cape. Dick seemed to think everyone had to have their own stuffed animal so no one else dared give the kid one that day. Must have been so no one could tease him about that stuffed elephant on his bed.

Jason on the other hand had given both Timmy and Cassandra yo-yos, hand crafted by him. Painted by him too, so he felt they were more personalized. He made a point to teach them how to use them when they were old enough to use them properly. It was only a way to hang out with them more further on in life. Besides, he gave Bruce, Alfred and Dick yo-yos as well the Christmas before Timmy's arrival.

Timmy just gave Cass a crayon picture when she joined them, of the whole family plus her. He didn't have many ideas on what to give her since he was four at the time.

Now the question would be, what would these last two give their new baby brother? Jay just smiled at his sister. "We'll just have to wait and find out. Didn't know Timmy would be a child genius or you'd like reading so much after you learned how."

She smiled shyly. Reading didn't involve too many people and she was still a bit uneasy around them. Their bodies said so much to her without even trying. Like how her brothers were right then. Each and every one of them were excited, but Timmy was still worried about something in the back of his mind. Dick was particularly thrilled. He really liked being an older brother.

"It's nearly ten!" Timmy whined. Sure it was a Saturday night, but he was really getting tired. "When's Dad going to get here!"

"Relax Timbo!" Dick laughed as he pulled the soon-to-be big brother into a reassuring hug. "He'll be back soon, introduce you to our long overdue baby brother, and you'll see how great it is being one of the older ones."

"Are you sure nothing's going to change between all of us?" The kid really was scared their dad would forget him in all of this. He had nightmares of everyone treating the new baby of the family like royalty and he'd be nothing more than garbage. Plus he would be their dad's real first born child. They were all adoptions. This was very different than in the past.

Their strong big brother gave him a tight squeeze. "Nothing bad, I assure you. Believe me, I was scared a bit when Jay first came in."

"Really?" The second eldest questioned. "Because, I remember getting attacked by hugs, questions, and cookies."

"Hey I was an only child until that point," Dick jibed back. "Of course I was scared. Still wanted a baby brother I could play with though. Just like how I always wanted a dog."

"So I was your pet dog?" The former street rat gave him a mocking glare.

"The best." He grinned at them all, still holding Timmy close. "The kind I didn't have to potty train or put on a leash."

"Oh screw you." Jason rolled his eyes and shook his head as the others laughed. Alfred though gave them all a disapproving look. Jason just gave him a sheepish smile, saying sorry without losing any pride.

Suddenly they heard the clock chime, then open. All eyes turned to the entrance to the Batcave and the much expected return of one Bruce Wayne, carrying a near two year old within the black cape he once wore as Batman. One look at the little boy rubbing his eyes was all they needed to confirm the suspicions they had about his parentage. He looked much like Bruce in his baby pictures.

"Everyone," the head of the household started in the doorway, smiling broadly, "meet your brother, Damian Wayne."

Though all of them wanted to charge up to them in excited greeting, the kids controlled themselves and approached them slowly. Each of them were smiling in their own way as they drew closer, trying not to scare the little guy. Looked like he was either ready for bed or just woke up from a nap. Either way, the wrong step could lead to a lot of yelling and/or crying.

"Hey there little guy," Dick started first, smiling warmly at him. He was the first of them Damian made eye contact with. He had his father's eyes, no doubt about that. "I'm your big brother Dick." He waved a hand to the others as he introduced him. "And this is Cass, your sister. That's Jason and this big guy here is Tim."

"The old man in the suit is Alfred," Jason joined in, grinning impishly. "Think of him as the grandpa who actually cleans up after everyone. His cooking rocks, especially his cookies."

"I would hope so," said 'grandpa' chimed in. "After all these years perfecting the recipe for hungry little boys, it would be a shame not to have the best cookies in Gotham."

"Give yourself a little more credit!" Dick joked. "In the world. Best ever, hands down. Even the League says it."

Timmy tugged on Bruce's sleeve, the highest he could reach to get his attention. "Can I see him?"

The man chuckled at the request, then at little Damian who hid his face in his father's shirt. The little guy had barely started feeling safe and warm with this man, and now more strangers were coming towards him. Hiding himself for a few minutes was probably the nicest way to handle this situation. His father rubbed his back gently still.

"Everyone over to the couch," Bruce ordered in a low tone, keeping his voice gentle to keep the little one calm. Quickly the miniature mob moved towards the couch, leading their father to the center of it. Once the man sat down, he was surrounded by children. Cass and Jason opted to hanging over the back of the couch and Bruce's shoulder to see Damian better, while Dick and Timmy sat on either side. The toddler still clung to his father's shirt, not quite daring to look at the people around him quite yet.

"It's okay Damian," his father tried to coax him as he let the cape fall off around him. "They're your brothers and sister. They aren't going to hurt you."

"Yet." His joking comment earned Jason a quick glare from everyone older than him. "We'll wait until he's six at least. Then he can really take a punch."

Cass smirked. "He's right. Timmy threw a punch at six."

"Enough of that," Bruce ordered, a little sharper than intended. It gained Damian's attention, making him look up at him in surprise. "No one is going to hurt Damian while under this roof. Is that clear?"

"As a rule or as a policy?" This earned another glare from his father. Jason threw up his hands in his defense. "Hey, you said not to make any promises I can't keep. When his punches start to hurt, I'll be hitting back, guaranteed. Until then, he's safe."

"Seems fair," Cassandra added.

Their father sighed heavily. "You two are setting bad examples already."

"Hey Dami!" Dick stuck a hand behind a pillow behind him, grinning from ear to ear. Already everyone knew he was ready to give out presents. "Got something for ya."

The toddler actually looked at him for a long moment silently, not sure how to take this stranger before him. But once the stuffed animal appeared, making everyone's eyes widen in surprise, all fear and hesitation left him. "KITTY!"

In Dick's hands was a custom made cat plushy, dressed to look like Batman. Damian's hands immediately left his father's shirt and jerked towards the clearly prized stuffed animal. His grey eyes brightened and he nearly fell off his father's lap as he tried to grab his new toy. Bruce quickly put both hands on his son to keep him safe while Dick brought the toy closer for him to grab. "There you go Damian. Your very own Bat-kitty."

His eyes alight as he held and stared at the toy, no one could stop from chuckling now. Alfred took out a camera and started taking pictures of the six of them on the couch. Timmy came closer to see both his baby brother and the doll in curiosity. Cass was nearly pulling herself over the couch to get a better look as well while Jason just watched from his place in amusement. Both Dick and Bruce's faces glowed in happiness watching the kid break out of his quiet revere at last, nearly smiling at the custom doll.

The best photographic moment of the night came just seconds after, when the boy looked up at his father and then to the doll. "Fwader kitty?"

* * *

It was far past eleven before Alfred was given a chance to hold his near grandson. Dick and Jason both had a chance, but after the near panic attack the kid had in the second's arms, they thought it best to let the boy adjust to everyone around him slowly before giving both Cassandra and Timmy a chance. The former youngest wasn't quite sure if he wanted to hold him either. Damian had whipped his stuffed toy around and hit his face with its tail. Though it was an accident, Timmy was still on the fence on whether to like this kid or not. Thus would start the normal sibling jealousy and rivalry in the future, they were sure.

It was when that said boy had curled up on the couch silently and his sister had rubbed her eyes that Bruce thought it best to call it a night. It was far past everyone's bedtimes, even for a Saturday. He gently passed Damian, the Bat-kitty, and the bat covered fleece baby blanket Timmy gave him, over to Alfred for safe keeping as he carefully took the younger two to bed. Jason and Dick protested for a minute about being sent away but stopped when both had yawned in the middle of their speeches.

Though the older three could put themselves to bed without too much difficulty, Timmy insisted on being carried to bed. His father gave a slight chuckle as he did so, holding this boy just as closely as he had his other.

"Daddy…" the kid moaned as they entered his room.

"Hm?"

"Who do you love more?"

Bruce took in a slow deep breath before releasing it. He sat on the edge of Timmy's bed and propped him on his knee to talk for a moment. "Timmy, I love each and every one of you equally."

"But we all have different birth Mommies and Daddies," the boy explained. He really seemed troubled by this. "Damian's your one real son, right?"

"True," the man admitted, "'but blood does not mean family. Alfred comes from a different country than I do, but he's been family for me since the day he came into my life. I think I was five when I first met him."

"Do you love him more than your real parents?" Timmy asked innocently.

A prickle of pain came to the man's chest. He missed his parents sorely, but… "Sometimes I wonder.

"Timmy," Bruce looked the boy straight into the eye as he explained, "just because Damian's here doesn't mean I love you any less. You just have to get to know him. You'll grow to like him, just like Jason grew to like you too. It's easier when he's a cuddly twenty-one month old and you're a strong, brave eight year old, because you can help him become someone just as amazing as you."

"Really?" He kept his eyes on his father, wanting to believe this a little.

"I'm sure of it." The man smiled warmly, giving his son a strong hug before helping him get into bed. He handed the groggy child the stuffed masked dog he received on his arrival there. Timmy took it and cuddled it eagerly before smiling and letting himself go off to slumberland. Bruce laid a hand on his head fondly before whispering, "Sleep tight."

Bruce checked on each of his children before returning to Alfred trying to settle Damian in the nursery. The little guy was starting to fuss, pouting and squirming on occasion in the old man's arms. "Something the matter?"

"I believe he has a dirty diaper sir." The butler looked over to the master of the household, raising an eyebrow. "And we have talked about this."

The younger man gave an awkward smile. "Right. I'll take care of it."

"Very good sir." He handed the child back to his father, taking out the necessities to make the unpleasant task easier on them all. "I trust the other young masters and miss are well?"

"Jason didn't even bother with blankets." The CEO carefully laid his boy on the changing table and undid the onesie he was in, changing that out along with the diaper. A toddler still running around in this onesie… well, at least it was a form of Kevlar. He mentally prepared himself for the surprises he was about to face, changing his first used diaper. "All of them fell asleep as soon as their heads hit the pillow."

"Very likely," the butler stated, bringing over a simple set of green pajamas. "Most of them were up by seven this morning. A most exciting day truly, waiting for your return. I trust Miss Talia is well?"

"Well enough to send nearly a hundred of her guards after me when I finished talking to her." The man tried to make quick work of the smelly mess as he talked to his most trusted friend. It made the task seem less daunting. Practicing on dolls had helped him become proficient, but not perfect. "She's not happy about this. She and Ra's are likely to retaliate."

"So the Justice League is on alert?"

"Naturally. Until my sources tell me differently, we assume everyone is a target. Damian's not going back to her, no matter what." Determination grew in the man's voice, gaining a curious look from his naked son. Bruce handed him Cassandra's gift to him, a plastic toy car, to distract him a few minutes more. "She was starting his training as Ra's heir. They're planning on making him a weapon, a tool for their cause. Can you imagine him having to go through all of that? All of my training, and Cassandra's, starting at two years old? What kind of mother would do that to her child?"

"One truly not deserving of the title." Silently Alfred's old charge nodded, sadly.

The child finally cleaned up and dressed comfortably, Bruce took him back into his arms. He wrapped the blanket around his boy's body and handed back the Bat-kitty for him to cuddle for a while longer. The man yawned himself then, really tired from the day's excursions. His little son followed suit, making both men chuckle.

"May I advise having him sleep with you tonight sir," the butler offered quickly. "For both safety and emotional security that is. I fear with how easily Masters Richard and Jason managed to come in here without our knowledge, this room will need even more security than the rest of the house."

"Probably right." The younger man smiled at his father figure before heading to his own room. "Goodnight Alfred."

"Goodnight Master Bruce, Young Master Damian." Alfred smiled fondly after the two. "Sweet dreams."

* * *

A/N: Tada! and that's how the baby bat joins the family! Timmy's obviously a little jealous and wary, but that's normal for kids who aren't the youngest anymore and have that large of an age gap. Just thinking of how I'd comfort my child in the future if that happens. The change in Timmy starting to be called Tim is around now, along with him calling Bruce Dad instead of Daddy. Cass is talking more too, and I decided to make her a bit of a bookworm since she's learning to read at an early age instead. Heh, yeah, Cass is gonna be a bit different.

Anyone recognize the bat-kitty? I have two comics on my DA page about it. Though there Tim was the one who got it for Damian. =P Also visiting in this one was Peanut/Elinor/Zitka, Dick's stuffed elephant made famous about a decade ago by one amazing writer. We also have Bat-bear (Jason), Mystery Dog (Tim) and Mighty Mouse! (Cass) XD Thought it'd be something Dick would do

Thanks for the ideas with Selina, I've got one now and it won't be long til you see it. It kinda ties into the dangerous tone at the end of this one. Yes, the two leagues clashing is possible, but I haven't really thought of how to expand that yet. Dami's individual story isn't done, but this arch is. Until the next one! ^^V


	15. Jocko Choco

This isn't excactly after the last ach but I wanted to post something before I can't get online for the next four days. Still working on the next short. Told ya they'd be a bit out of order. =P More League members here.

Dick-15 Jason-12 Cass-10 Tim-8 Damian-2

* * *

**Jocko Choco**

"Flash, get to the manor now!"

"What? Why?" Barry looked at the phone right as the connection cut. That was such a Bruce thing to do, tell him to do something then cut off transmissions so he couldn't question his orders. Why the man had called him in just as his shift at the station ended was even more a mystery to him. Usually, he wouldn't call him on his phone either. Why was he…

Well, he didn't get anything done by standing still. In ten minutes he was in Gotham, knocking on the side door of Wayne Manor so Alfred would let him in. Still in his lab coat, Barry Allan entered the kitchen not knowing what to expect. Was one of the kids hurt?

"Mr. Allen it's so good you have arrived." The old butler looked a little more run down than usual; his coat was missing for some reason and what hair he had was even on end. "Mr. Kent is almost done for."

"What happened?" Now he was really beginning to worry. He followed the older man back into the main part of the house, still confused. Then he heard some crashing, glass breaking, and something else. They exchanged looks briefly before near running towards the sounds of the destruction and excited screams.

"We're not certain yet." They turned one corner and immediately ran into Timmy. Or rather, he ran into them.

"HI ALFRED! HI UNCLE BARRY!" The kid grinned from ear to ear, much louder and bolder than normal. With a very speedy snap, he turned about and darted right back to where his brothers were taking on Superman, and winning. "HEY GUYS! UNCLE BARRY'S HERE! WE CAN FIND OUT WHO'S FASTER NOW!"

"IsaySupermanbecausehe'sawesome!" Dick started, talking almost at Flash speed. "Canwegoflyingnow? Huh? Canwe? Canwe? Canwe? Canwe? Canwe? Canwe? Canwe? Canwe? Huh? Huh? Huh? Huh? Huh? Huh? Canwe?"

"MEFIRST! MEFIRST! MEFIRST! MEFIRST! MEFIRST! MEFIRST!" Jason was both loud and fast, plus there was a chocolate smear across his face.

Both of them were wrapping the man in titanium jump lines and red towels. Somehow they'd gotten their hands on some red lipstick and neon eye shadow, and they were decorating the man of steel. The man seemed to really be at wits end.

"Help."

"Let'sgoflyakite! Uptothehighestheight! Let'sgoflyakiteandsenditsoaring!"

"Okay, what happened?" Barry turned his gaze back to the butler but stopped when he saw the owner of the house finally coming up to them. One leg had Cassandra wrapped around it, grinning like a crazy person, and both arms were loaded up: little Damian (the only calm person there) on one side and some open boxes of fundraiser chocolates on the other. Bruce was anything but pleased.

"Finally." He nodded his head towards the giggly girl, indicating he should take her. Alfred was already trying to do so. "You keep Cass, Jason and Tim occupied while I figure out what Joker put in these things. Kent has Dick."

"TIEHIMUPGOODANDTIGHT! LETSSEEHOWHEFLIESNOW!"

"UP UP AND AWAY!"

"You called me here… to babysit?" He looked over to Clark, still taken back by what he was seeing around him. Four very hyper kids who were taking down Superman without a single care in the world.

"How can anyone fly like this?" The guy was panicking now.

"MAGIC! ABRAKADABRAPOOF! ABRAKADABRAPOOF! ABRAKADABRAPOOF! ABRAKADABRAPOOF!"

"I wouldn't call this babysitting per say," Bruce tried to explain. "Distraction, yes. Alfred will stay up stairs and help with the damages and it's just the four of them."

"And I get three?" This looked really unfair, all the way around. Why did Clark only have to deal with the oldest?

"You want to trade?" There was quite a bit of panic in the reporter's voice.

"Notrade! You'remine! MINE! MINE! MINE! MINE! MINE! MINE! MINE! MINE! Brucesaidso! Right? Right? Right?"

"Dick's a miniature nuclear reactor when on a sugar high. You don't want him." The kids' father seemed tired already. "The others are much calmer in compare."

"STARTFLYINGALIENBOY!"

"No… farmboy!"

"ALIENFARMBOY!"

"BOYSCOUT!"

"ALIENFARMBOYBOYSCOUT!"

"Andhesnitches!"

"SNITCHINGALIENFARMBOYBOYSCOUT!"

"I HAVE A NAME!"

"I'm seeing why you don't let them have much sugar." The speedster was starting to get dizzy watching them. No one above the age of three was holding still, and the strongest person in the room was nearly done for by the hands of hyperactive kids. Their demands were becoming sillier and less likely to occur by the minute.

Bruce pinched his brow at the oncoming headache. Alfred looked ready to join him in this sentiment. "I'm thinking of banishing cookies too if this keeps up."

"NOOO!" All the kids screamed at once, jerking their heads around to their father in a near panic. "NOT THE COOKIES!"

This won an exasperated look from every adult in the room, plus a raised eyebrow from little Damian. Their dad shook his head, trying to not give in to the headache he was getting.

"WE LOVE OUR COOKIES! WE CAN'T LIVE WITHOUT THEM! MUST HAVE COOKIES! BETTER THAN CHOCOLATE! COOKIES!"

"Just keep them from destroying everything while I figure out what's in these things?" He lifted the boxes under one arm as explanation. "Try to get them to eat something healthy to balance out the sugar. If we're lucky, there won't be any long range side effects. Call me the instant one of them crashes."

Barry groaned, looking back to the four of them clambering over each other excitedly to see if Clark's ears could take their weight. He had a hard enough time when Wally ate too much sugar, now he was being ordered to take care of three ninja kids on huge rushes. "How'd they end up like this? Bruce?"

He looked back when there wasn't a reply and found the spot the billionaire was moments ago empty. The speedster glared at the spot. "I hate it when he does that!"

"Barry!" Clark near screeched. "HELP!"

"Okay okay…" Quickly the speedster grabbed the smallest of them and pulled him away from the alien. Tim laughed impishly before turning in his grasp and giving him a quick hug. Frankly the man was surprised by the sudden bout of affection. Other than Dick, all the kids were pretty reserved with touching anyone outside their mishmash family. "Whoa there partner."

"GOT ANY CHOCOLATE?" The kid grinned up at him, showing some slight chocolate smears on the corners of his mouth.

"Uhhh… Nooo…."

"DARN!" The boy pouted dramatically. "I WANT MORE CHOCOLATE!"

"Not this year Master Timothy." Alfred gave them all a reproving glare as he tried to help release the man of steel from his bindings. "Not after this fiasco."

"What exactly happened?"

"WE HAD CHOCOLATE!" The kid was starting to go into giggle fits. Cassandra was also laughing to herself as she brought come cables over towards the new comer. "REALLY GOOD CHOCOLATE!"

"We'rehavingafundraiser!" Dick explained, doing flips and turns all over the alien's tied up form. "Forthenextfieldtrip! Everyonehastosellthreeboxes! Whichmeanswebringhomefood! Thenweeatit! ThenBrucepays! Everyonewins! IlikeJockoChocobars! Weshouldhavemoreof'em! Youwannatryone? They'rereallygood! Tasty! Delicious! Andnutricious! Wrappersaidso! Musthavemore! Onlyhadthreebars! Weshouldhavemore!"

"YEAH!" All the kids cheered.

"I think not!" Alfred's glare was only comparable to Batman's when he was truly livid. "If just one bar turns Miss Cassandra into this," he gestured to the giggling wilding girl on the floor, "then I dread to think of what any more of you with added doses will become!"

"BUTIWANTCHOCOLATE!" Jason nearly howled.

"ME TOO!"

"Methree! Methree!"

"JOCKOCHOCO! JOCKOCHOCO! JOCKOCHOCO! JOCKOCHOCO! JOCKOCHOCO! JOCKOCHOCO! JOCKOCHOCO! JOCKOCHOCO! JOCKOCHOCO! JOCKOCHOCO! JOCKOCHOCO! JOCKOCHOCO! JOCKOCHOCO! JOCKOCHOCO! JOCKOCHOCO! JOCKOCHOCO! JOCKOCHOCO! JOCKOCHOCO! JOCKOCHOCO! JOCKOCHOCO! JOCKOCHOCO! JOCKOCHOCO! JOCKOCHOCO! JOCKOCHOCO!"

"**ENOUGH!**" Everyone stared at the butler in utter shock as he actually yelled at them like that. Never had they seen the man lose his composure before, and not once had he yelled over anyone in anyone's memory. He had a surprisingly loud voice when he wanted to use it apparently. He took a deep breath before speaking again. "There will be no more consumption of chocolate, let alone those 'Jocko Choco' bars, until everyone has **calmed down** and any ill effects of Joker's treat has worn off. Until then, the **only** items you will be eating **will** be healthy."

"BORING!" Jason griped. He hopped off of Clark and started hanging on Barry's arm. "YOUGOTTASTYFOODRIGHT? WANNARACE? WE'LLLETSUPERMANGOIFYOURACE!"

"YEAH!" Tim grabbed Barry's other arm and lifted his legs to swing on his arm, jolting the speedster from his earlier stance. "YOU TWO SHOULD RACE! WHO'S FASTER? FLASH OR SUPERMAN? HOW FAST DO YOU GO? CAN YOU RACE THROUGH WALLS? CAN YOU RUN AND VIBRATE THROUGH WALLS AT THE SAME TIME? CAN SUPERMAN DO THAT? IS THERE A WAY YOU CAN FLY TOO? I BET IF YOU MOVE YOUR HANDS FAST ENOUGH YOU CAN FLY!"

"THAT'DBESOCOOL!" His bother laughed as he leapt on the speedster's back, practically demanding a piggy back ride. "LET'SFLY! LET'SFLY! LET'SRUN! LET'SRUN! GO! GO! GO!"

"Wait!" Dick interrupted. "Supermanhasto escapehistrapfirst! WeshouldtieFlashuptoo! Justtobefair!"

"I give up." Alfred shook his head, looking at the ceiling in defeat. Cass was still giggling at his feet, some ropes and the like next to her. He looked around once then turned about to do something else elsewhere. This nearly petrified the two Leaguers.

"Wait!" Clark begged. "What about us?"

"You're just giving up?" Barry's arms were going to come out of their sockets. Neither boy was going to let go any time soon.

"Not much else I can do." A slight knowing smirk appeared at the corner of his mouth. "I am far too old to chase down these four on a sugar high. I will retrieve the broom and dustpan though. There are quite a few damages that need immediate tending to."

"LaterAlfie!" Dick waved cheerily as the butler continued on his journey away from them. The teen grinned from ear to ear. "Hey! Let'splaycopsandrobbers!"

"NO! HIDEANDSEAK!"

"TAG! I WANNA PLAY TAG!"

"How about Halo?" Barry tried to detour them. Surely they had to have videogames in this huge expensive place.

"**RULE 2!**" each kid screamed at the top of their lungs, laughing at their shocked faces.

Clark took a deep breath before explaining to the shocked speedster. "They don't have Halo, or any shooting games. Mind getting me out of this?"

* * *

Bruce took comfort in the safety of the sealed Batcave. Comfort and safety. As Damian was the only one who hadn't eaten the 'Jocko Choco' bars, he was the only one he felt he could handle safely. A normal sugar high with any of the older boys was a nightmare. Dick's especially. Hyper on normal days plus high concentrations of sugary treats always equaled disasters. When they first learned this, he was nine and they lost a priceless chandelier. Rule 9 wasn't created until after that day.

Some of the cave's monitors were connected to the manor's security camera, letting him see what damages were done to the house and if the Leaguers could handle four hyperactive kids. Well, two kids, one preteen, and a teenager to be accurate. So far the teenager was still going strong, torturing his favorite hero with requests, random pranks, and constant chatter. Cass had crashed after about twenty minutes after his clever escape, falling into a daze on one of the couches. Tim soon followed suit, collapsing on a couch in the library. Jason was getting close to done himself, but managed to take an apple as a snack before his blood sugar dropped dangerously low. But he was winding down, giggling more than running, just like when the other two had stopped.

And all three had constant grins on their faces.

Alfred had managed to sneak in a sample of the younger two's blood after they collapsed for testing while he continued to identify what chemicals were really in the fundraiser candy bars. The labels were far from correct and he could sue the company on that fact alone. And with Joker actually being the person behind this whole charade (Jocko was one of his many aliases), it wouldn't be hard to prevent any reoccurrences. It was the mean time that worried him.

"Any changes in Cassandra and Timmy's situations?" he asked Alfred over the intercom.

"None, yet." The butler had Barry helping him line the children up to keep a better eye on them. As soon as Clark can manage to keep Dick in one place, a real challenge, they were going to bring the two unconscious ones down stairs for a better checkup. When Jason finally decided to zonk out, Barry would be free to help him with the analysis. His expertise would be quite valuable right then. "Master Jason's rubbing his eyes and grinning. I believe he'll be joining the others shortly."

"I'm not tired," the boy in question murmured behind them.

"Right, tell me another one." Barry was doing an initial overlook of Timmy unconscious form. Alfred was looking over Cassandra, giving the forensics officer instructions as they went. "I think their pupils are dilated."

"Indeed. Both seem to be in states of shock." This brought a thoughtful look to the older man's face. "Similar to those Joker gas victims. Is it possibly a solid form of the chemicals they ingested?"

"Could be something similar." Bruce heard the mass-spectrometer go off and started reading over the analysis. "Very similar. When combined with stomach acid and introduced to the bloodstream through the digestive system, it turns into an adrenal releasing neural toxin."

"So the candy bars themselves aren't toxic, but when ingested they do this?" The scientist felt the edges of the younger victim's mouth cautiously. He thought he saw the smile broaden.

"Seems to." The father looked over to the sleeping two year old tucked into a temporary playpen. Glad he hadn't had any of the treats. According to the analysis, this thing could kill smaller individuals, anyone weighing less than fifty pounds within a few hours. His eyes widened dangerously. "Allen, get Tim and Cass down here now!"

He pressed the button allowing entrance back to the cave then swept over to the medical to get it ready. If he was right, they'd have to work fast to save them. Before he finished turning the lights on, Barry was down there, setting Timmy on one table then Cass on the next. "What's going on now Bats?"

Bruce didn't answer immediately. He just handed over the data sheets before turning over to the already prepared antidotes to start working on a cure. Allen's eyes widened as things clicked into place. "How much do they weigh?"

"75 and 83. I think the Joker anti-toxin should prevent further damage. Grab Jason and strap him to that bed. He'll be crashing soon." He had a syringe ready within minutes and at the younger boy's side before the other man could blink. They had to work fast.

"What about Dick?"

"First we see what we can do for the others before we even try to stop him." Once the anti-toxin was in, Tim's smile laxed, calming his father a small degree. At least this anti-toxin would work on someone who ate only one bar. He'd have to run more tests before he could say for sure. He grabbed a fresh needle and went to Cass just as Barry brought down Jason. That one was going on giggle fits, smiling broadly and laughing weakly. He was looking worse than his siblings when they were crashing. How many bars did he have?

"I've got him," the speedster stated, taking a needle and vial.

"50cc should be enough for him," the father instructed, rubbing down his girl's arm to help her body take in the chemicals. She too started to relax, slipping into a more restful sleep just as Jason's giggling ended. He too was resting now. Bruce looked up to Barry, some relief in his eyes. "Thanks."

"Just glad you thought of me." He looked over all three kids, watching them finally at rest. He really was the best man for this job, both with his skills and his powers. They were a handful, but not near as bad as Dick when wound up. Clark was still trying to keep up with him. These three had crashed, and now they could get around to really helping them. "So, where do we start?"

* * *

It took nearly another hour before the two of them had a solid cure for the 'Jocko Choco' pandemic. Dick was the first recipient and Flash had to nearly pin the kid down for it to work. As Bruce finished administering the cure to the rest of the kids, Superman made a b-line over to the producers of Jocko Choco Bars to stop production and start looking for clues, if he didn't find Joker first. Flash was distributing the cure to every household in Gotham, having converted the cure to a drink form to make it easier on the kiddos. A public notice flew across the television screens informing the people of what to expect and what was going on. Many people around the city was on these wild sugar highs, mostly children and chocolate addicts. The cure the frustrated father developed was needed by the whole city in the end.

"Ugh…" Dick couldn't believe the headache and soreness he felt afterwards. Jason leaned heavily against his side on the couch. They and their other siblings were transferred upstairs to the movie room to recoup and keep entertained at the same time. Bruce was busy helping with making and sending the cure out to the general public without anyone making a connection to him. Which meant not only him giving out the recipe discreetly for other companies to help profit off of it, but also that the four of them had to watch their two year old brother until the other adults were back. Alfred was busy making a simple dinner.

Damian was crawling all over them, wherever they laid.

"Pway! Pway!" the toddler begged excitedly, tugging on their sleeves and hair.

"Too much energy…"

"I think he sucked us dry…"

"Where'd he get those gummy worms?"

"Gummy worms?" Dick jerked his head around to where Damian was, bouncing on Cass' back while chewing on the said treat. The teen's eyes widened in dismay before he tried to get the little kid. "Dami! When did you get into my candy stash!"

"You've got a candy stash?" Cass asked, turning her head tiredly towards the eldest.

"And you dared bring home drugged chocolates?" Jason added. Dick guiltily nodded, picking up Damian and propping him on his lap. He grabbed the kid's bat-kitty and tried entertaining him that way. Their brother groaned in pain. "Dude, if I weren't so sugar shocked right now, I'd find Alf's shotgun and break rule 2 on your head."

"Hey, I just met you…" Tim started, still dizzy from the whole shebang, "and this is crazy… But you've got candy…. So share it, maybe…"

"Just be sure it's not from Joker, okiday?" the normal troublemaker added.

"Okiday…" Dick glared slightly at Damian starting his own sugar rush and messing with his face. "Damian, that's my nose. It belongs there. Leave it alone and watch Anikin fly his pretty planes please."

* * *

A/N: Okay, I wanted to see them on a sugar high. it worked. This one was pure crack but I made a Joker plot out of it. Brought Barry in on it and had the batkids torture Superman. That part was fun! And then how both Alfred adn Burce abandoned them... that was priceless. Then Dami turns the tables on them... if you recognize the 'call me, maybe' parody Tim was starting, good for you! If not, youtube it with cookie monster.

Still working on the one with Selina. It's harder than I initially realized. Hopefully my little holiday away from the net will help me make a lot of stories go forward. If not... *shrug* Oh, and if you want to know waht's gong on in my life, check out my DA page and read that journal. I do update, once in a blue moon. Til next time! ^^V


	16. The Temp

Guess who's coming in now. Dunno if I did the relationship justice or got the characters right for this, but... *shrug* oh well. Thanks for letting me go on vacation! It really helped me move forward with this one.

Damian-22mo

* * *

**The Temp**

Damian buried his face in his father's coat, trying to hide from all the people around him. He still wasn't used to seeing all the faces looking at him in the bright daylight. He was still getting used to the new siblings of his in the darker manor, though some had been easier to get comfortable with than others. Bruce was very glad he had gotten attached to Dick and Cassandra as quickly has he had. Jason was taking a bit longer than he liked, and the slight tension between Timmy and Damian was expected, but hopefully that'd go away in time. Most of it left Dick and Jason after all, or they just hid it very well.

Still, Damian being uncomfortable now was very understandable. His bright office building may have wowed a three year old Timmy, but this one wasn't even two yet. The world kept changing around him and getting used to the manor was a far cry from this place. But Bruce had to go to work that day for a few meetings. And that meant bringing his smallest with him.

Latest intel reports told him to stay on guard from the League of Shadows. Talia and her father would no doubt be upset with him for quite some time for taking their heir away from them. Assassins were only to be expected until they got it through their thick skulls that Damian needed a normal life.

Or that they would be annihilated if they kept coming after _his_ child. He had the Justice League's support after all. And a host of other super powered beings to call upon at a moment's notice. If he wanted to keep one little boy out of the world of criminals and murderers, they'd support him full heartedly.

Either way, it was best to keep the boy with him as much as possible. Also helped the toddler adapt to his new life if someone was consistent in his life. He wasn't ready to be left with Alfred at home quite yet. Or was it Bruce who was having a hard time leaving him? Well it amounted to the same thing. Until he saw fit otherwise, Damian was going to be a frequent visitor of Wayne Enterprises. Timmy was too until kindergarten.

As he exited the elevator reaching his office's floor, Bruce tried to coax his son to look around. Hiding like that was cute, but he needed to get used to seeing this place. "Come on Dami. It's not that scary. It's just a few of us up here. You, me, Mrs. Dalton and… who is this?"

The man's surprise actually got the toddler to look at what he was staring at. Right next to Mrs. Dalton's desk stood one very lovely young lady maybe five years younger than Bruce. Short black hair almost a pixie cut, dazzling emerald eyes, a killer body, and a voice that nearly purred when she talked. She had both Waynes' attention in a heartbeat. And all she was doing was talking over a clipboard to the man's lead secretary (who had been in Wayne Enterprises since his father's day).

"Oh Mr. Wayne!" Mrs. Dalton started, coming out of her chair to greet them properly. "And young Mr. Wayne I see. Hello there sweety!"

As the older woman tried to coo at the toddler, he retreated once again into his father's coat. Yet he skill kept an eye on the two women, especially the new one. Bruce gave a slight cough. "Mrs. Dalton, if I may ask, who is this?"

"Oh don't mind her," the lady insisted. "She's just a temp covering for Amanda in the records department."

"Amanda? Amanda Richfield?" He remembered that particular lady. Hard one to forget. After his old secretary nodded, he asked, "Did she have her baby?"

"Almost time," the grandmother confirmed. "First ones are always the hardest on a woman. Wonder how his mother handled it. Coochi coo!"

"Please Mrs. Dalton, stop. He really doesn't like it." Damian squirmed a little in his arms, agreeing. The CEO's eyes locked back on the temp, not sure if he really wanted to see her or not.

"Timothy liked it."

"Entirely different people. And really," Bruce stepped towards the temp, putting up one of his best smiles, "may I have the pleasure to know your name miss?"

"Elva Barr." She offered her free hand to him, smiling coyly.

'_Liar._' He took it still, balancing Damian in one arm as he shook her hand. This was someone he hadn't seen in years, and certainly never in regular business clothes. But seeing Selina Kyle, Catwoman, at all was indeed a treat. His heart had skipped a beat like it used to when they once raced across rooftops little over six years ago.

"Nice to meet you Mrs. Barr."

"Miss actually." Selina's eyes looked up and down him for a moment. Already sizing him up to see if she could seduce him. What was she doing working as a temp here? He hadn't heard of Catwoman changing her MO or going straight. This had to be for a job, or she was laying low. Either way, he couldn't allow himself to be taken in by her wiles.

"How is that possible? A woman like yourself couldn't possibly be available." So he just turned up his charm instead.

"Well, I do have my choice of men," she added, taking no offense. Then she looked away slightly, remembering something. "But none of them compared to the one who got away."

"Oh? And who is that fool? I should meet him and tell him off."

"Fraid I don't kiss and tell." Her Cheshire smile tried to bat the subject away. "It was a long time ago anyway."

"So the position is open then?" He gave her a flirtatious smile. It'd been quite some time since he'd had an 'argument' like this. Talia wasn't the kind to banter.

"Possibly."

"Mr. Wayne!" Mrs. Dalton chided next to them. "This is hardly proper decorum! And you have an example to set!"

"Oh I think I'm setting a good one right now." This made Selina giggle and Damian look around a little, curious. This only made his smile a little more genuine. "MISS Barr, meet my son Damian. I hope he doesn't put a damper on our… acquaintance."

He cast the secretary a sly look as the temp looked a little closer to the boy, yet kept far enough away to not scare him. "Not at all. I've heard all about the Wayne adoptions. I think it's admirable for someone to make a stance like this. But I must say…" She looked back and forth between him and his son, raising an eyebrow, "he looks quite a bit like you. Are the rumors true?"

"Which rumors?" Couse he knew the rumors. He started about a dozen of them. He just wanted to know how far they went. "I'm afraid I don't go by the water coolers very often."

"Pay them no mind," Mrs. Dalton insisted. "You have other matters to consult. The files for today's meetings are ready for you."

"Ah yes. Thank you." He took the files from the lady's hand then looked back to Selina. "So, exactly how long are you going to be with us?"

"Well…"

"Mr. Bruce Wayne." The man couldn't help but to snicker at his secretary. She really didn't approve of him flirting with his employees, especially in front of children.

"Okay okay, I'm going." He gave Selina a sorry smile, supporting Damian with his other arm as he made his way to his office. Bruce looked back to the lady, giving a charming smile. "But I'd like your extension anyway. Lunch sound good?"

"Mr. Wayne!"

He grinned impishly at the two of them, earning a giggle from the temp and a scowl from his secretary, before tucking himself away in the office at last. He let the smile stay on his face long enough to put Damian on the ground to roam around and lock the door before becoming serious. As much fun as it always was to flirt with Selina, her appearance complicated things.

Why was Catwoman taking the role of a temp in the records department? Why was she there? What did she have to gain from taking that role? If it was to get close to him that was one thing, but what for? She was a jewel thief. He didn't keep jewelry there. Did any of his records contain locations where gems were kept?

"Fwader?" Damian tugged on his pant-leg bringing him back to present. He smiled down to his son, receiving one in return. "Bat-kitty!"

"Alright alright." Bruce unslung the satchel he'd grown accustomed to carrying around again and took out his favorite toy: the stuffed cat dressed like Batman that Dick gave him the first night they met. The toddler eagerly grabbed it and gave it a hug before making his way over to the old wooden toys by the couches. He arranged the cushions a few years back to keep Timmy from running around and getting hurt and never bothered to put any of them back. The old toys were ones he played with back in his father's day. It was good to see his son playing with them now.

He watched Damian get himself situated as he came over to his desk. He did have some work to do after all, and a background check to verify.

* * *

It was noon a few days later when Bruce found a reason to call the temp back into his office. He kept her on his private security watch in the mean time to make sure she wasn't pulling anything. So far she seemed to be on the up and up. When she knocked on his door, Bruce opened a stray file to look busy. How could he explain to anyone he'd been watching her through the cameras on his iPad?

"Come in." 'Ms. Barr' opened the door, raising an eyebrow as she brought up the courier from her department. "Ah! Elva! Come in come in!"

"The files you requested Mr. Wayne?" She strode over to meet Bruce half way, looking once over to Damian playing with the blocks and his Bat-Kitty. Then she looked again, surprised.

"Ah yes. The old processing plant on Urbine's files." He took the courier envelope and started opening it. "I need to review this before making a decision with the board."

"Okay…" Selina's eyes were still on Damian, playing away innocently. Bat-Kitty just flew through a brick wall, demolishing it. "I should probably get going."

"No, stay." Bruce walked back to his desk, picking out the files while lingering next to a few others. "I have a few things to send back to your department. Save a trip. It won't take long."

"I really shouldn't—"

"Have some coffee," he offered, motioning towards a cappuccino machine over to the side. "I believe Mrs. Dalton put in a Columbian blend this time. It's rather good. And I'm certain Damian would enjoy having more company than myself."

"I guess I could stay a little while." She gave him a coy smile before strolling over to the machine. Bruce couldn't help but watch her as she walked from the corner of his eye. Yeah, he was still attracted to her. "Anything I can get you while I'm at it?"

"I already have a cup, but thanks."

She nodded to herself, maybe thinking she was losing her touch but didn't show it. With her own cup in hand, she made her way back to the couches, watching both Waynes alternatively. Her eyes kept resting on the doll. "Um… That's a very interesting toy there."

"Yes, Dick gave it to him. It's his two favorite things combined." He lingered over the paperwork he was supposed to send back, watching what she would do.

Her eyebrows shot up. "Two favorite? Isn't he a little young to know anything about Batman? I mean, he just disappeared one day…"

The CEO watched her as she fumbled with the words to say. Apparently there were some lingering feelings for his old persona, and a little resentment. "His brothers tell stories. Jason in particular is quite fond of him. Cassandra too, but she doesn't talk much."

"So he's still around somewhere?" Selina looked over to him, some hope in her eye. It was becoming clearer to him that she missed him, at least a little.

"I like to think so." He gave her a slight smile as comfort. "He's saved my children a few times since his supposed disappearance. Rumor even has it he works behind the scenes with the Justice League."

"Does he now." She smirked slightly, looking back to the toy once more. "Hm… Who knows if that's true, rumors being rumors and all that. Don't even know if the ones about your children are true."

"Please," he started, finishing up his next courier envelope, "enlighten me. What are these rumors?"

She gave him a mock chiding look. "Mama always said not to spread lies Mr. Wayne."

He smirked as he came towards her again. "How can I discredit anything if I don't know what they say? And please, call me Bruce."

Selina gave her slightly coy smile in return. "Well, if you think you can take it, Bruce."

"I can."

She eyed him for a moment before taking a deep breath. "There's the usual scandalous ones of how you like little boys in a… certain manner… but I doubt those are real."

"Very far from the truth." He heard them before, and discredited them as often as he could. "I have a hard time keeping them from attacking me half the time."

This earned a chuckle. "Then there's the rumors of you kidnapping them and brainwashing them into believing they're someone else."

"You should meet them first before assuming that. They're very strong willed."

"There are others who say they're all charity cases. They're only to make you look good." This one made Bruce honestly cringe and look away. Dick and Jason both started fights with others after being called that a few times. "That you mostly ignore them if you aren't in public."

"Again, you should meet them before assuming so." He was almost tired from this rumor alone. There were days he had a hard time proving to his kids they were anything but. "They refuse to be ignored. One time they barged in on a meeting and started dancing on the tables just to get attention."

This made Selina laugh. Oh the stories he had on the mischief makers… "The one that I am beginning to believe though is, this one here, being your literal son. From some secret lover."

"Ex-fiancé actually."

She whipped her head around so fast he almost heard it crack. This made him smirk as he sadly recalled the event and everything leading up to it. "She faked a miscarriage and broke off the engagement nearly three years ago. I recently learned of Damian and rescued him."

"Rescued—"

"His mother was neglectful to say the least. She was having her father's people groom him into leading his… criminal organization." Bruce gave Selina a knowing look that also asked for mutual understanding. From what he unearthed of her personal history, he felt she would. "I saved him from that. Now he can grow up to be whatever he wanted to be. Everyone deserves to live with people who love them. Nothing is more important to me than family Miss Kyle. And I will do everything in my power to protect them."

Selina blinked, holding back her instincts to run at the mention of her real name and the veiled threat. "Excuse me?"

He raised an eyebrow at her, smirking slightly. It was time to get to the heart of the matter. "I do background checks on everyone who comes near my family, and I'm quite good at it. I don't know why you're going by Elva. Selina suits you much better."

"I don't—" Bruce held up a file with 'Kyle, Selina' on the tab. A picture of herself as Catwoman poked out from between the edges. "Ah…"

"Any particular reason you decided to be a temp here?" He tried to keep his voice as casual as possible. If she identified him as Batman, it may make things difficult for everyone. Plus it kept her calm; he learned that from earlier encounters. "I don't exactly specialize in jewelry or high end gemstones. I don't keep cash here and the artwork consists of prints and large sculptures. And we don't keep security protocols in the records department for our building renters where anyone can access them. Unless you're after something because someone hired you, I see no reason for Catwoman to be here."

He gave her an even stare, trying to not glare at her. He wanted to know… needed to know… why she was there. Part of the man believed she was hired by one of his enemies, whether it was the League of Shadows or one of his business competitors, he didn't know. The other part, the part letting him believe there was still good in people had another wish, and prayed it was the case. "Please tell me you're going straight and you wanted employment. I rather not think of you as a threat to my family."

Selina continued to stare at him, reminding him of a stunned cat for a long moment. He hadn't surprised her like this before, in either identity. Her stunned silence caught the attention of a certain toddler and now the two of them had an audience. Damian held his Bat-Kitty close, staring at them with wide curious eyes. After a long moment, the woman took a deep breath.

"If I was after anything of yours Mr. Wayne, it'd already be gone. I try not to stay in one place too long if I can help it. But…" she looked away, awkward. It made Bruce want to believe her. "I've made a few bad choices lately. Stirred up the wrong people. In this line of work, laying low means disappearing in a crowd. Few people are going to look twice at a temp here trying to keep a roof over her head."

A slight calm of relief started to creep into the CEO. "So you haven't been hired by someone to hurt me, my family, or my company?"

She shook her head. "No, just trying to keep my head down."

"In the records department?" He raised an eyebrow at her. Why that department?

"The library wasn't hiring." She folded her arms and gave him a challenging glare. "So what how? Are you going to arrest me?"

It was Bruce's turn to take a breath. He shrugged helplessly. "Don't have the authority. I'd have suggested you return your stolen goods and go straight, but I'm guessing they're already gone if you're working here." She looked away, frustrated. Apparently so. "Guess we'll just have to settle for reforming?"

She gave him a questioning glare. "Excuse me?"

"I'm still interested in taking you to lunch," he joked a little. "It wouldn't look well to start dating a suspected criminal who wasn't trying to straighten out her life." She nearly gaped at his gall now. Yes he was still very attracted to her, but he wasn't about to try for a fling or relationship with her unless he could trust her to stay on the straight and narrow.

"You need a job right? And to lay low?" She raised an eyebrow as she nodded to him. He gave her a small assured smile. "Then there's nothing to worry about. From the reports, Catwoman isn't a killer and has helped battered and kidnapped women and children. Some people think of you as a vigilante, others an urban legend. I can't just send you away or call in the police on account of supposed thefts. Catwoman's implicated, but not confirmed on any of these accounts.

"So long as you keep your nose clean, I can't really do anything." The businessman tried not to be amused at her shocked expression. "You do know we work with the correctional facilities in job placement right? Even if you were put on the police's doorstep, you'd probably end up here. And the last confirmed theft on record was…" He opened back up the file, double checking everything. "Four, nearly five years ago? Two more years and it'll be past the statute of limitations.

"Think you can keep the cat home until then?" Bruce smiled knowingly at her. The inquiring look on Selina's face reminded him of a kitten's. Even her ears were perking.

"So… you're blackmailing me, to work here, as a temp?"

"I wouldn't call it blackmail. More like incentive leading to job security." This one shot both her eyebrows up. "You don't want to stay a temp, do you?

"I can't keep you from running, so I'm not even going to try. I would like you to stay though." He put the file back onto the desk and grabbed the courier envelope. The CEO really wanted her to stay, partly to keep an eye on her. It was hard keeping track of this particular woman. "For your own sake if nothing else. I'd ask for a reform as well but I won't hold my breath. Who you are now is fine too."

He handed her the envelope, giving her a pleasing smile. "I actually find people with dark sides more interesting. Wouldn't you agree?"

Selina eyed the package before looking back to the man. After a moment she put the cup she was holding down on an end table, taking the envelope with a slight smirk. "Always, but everyone has a dark side Mr. Wayne. Makes me wonder what skeletons you have in the closet."

Her green eyes met his, challenging and enticing him at the same time. A near match came from his own gaze as he too smirked. "Stick around and find out. How do you like Italian?"

She nibbled on her lip, trying not to laugh at this man in the slightest. "Love it. The richer, the better. But," she jerked the envelope to the toddler still watching them, "I'm not doing diapers."

This actually pulled a chuckle from the man. "Fair enough. I would appreciate it though if you kept your ear to the ground on any plots against my family. May even be compensated for your troubles."

"Sounds good to me." Selina slid a little closer to him, giving him a coy, flirtatious look, sizing him up. "You keep this up Bruce, and you may beat an old playmate."

"One can only hope."

"Fwader?"

Both of them automatically jerked around, pulling back at the toddler's voice. They forgot about their innocent audience. "Firsty."

Bruce looked up to the ceiling, feeling awkward. "Right. Give me a moment."

"Can he have coffee?" Selina looked over to her nearly forgotten cup, wondering out loud if he wanted her drink.

The man gave her slightly scared inquiring look, taking a water bottle out of the satchel he carried. "Caffeine? In a toddler? Are you trying to get me killed?"

This won a laugh from the lady as he opened the bottle and passed it over to his son. The kid greedily took it and started drinking, watching them both still. She waved the currier envelope at him, stepping towards the door. "Not in my resume. But apparently messenger is. Thanks for the job."

"Lunch tomorrow?" The businessman gave her an inviting smile, hoping she'd accept.

Instead she gave him a short teasing laugh and opened the door. "Ask me tomorrow pretty boy."

With that Selina waltzed out the door, leaving two Waynes staring at the door behind her: one blinking at it innocently and the other smirking knowingly. "Pwetty kitty."

"Too true."

* * *

A/N: *evil laugh* yeah, this is how I get Selina Kyle into Bruce's life. Babysteps to romance. if anyone knows of any pet names Selina has for Bruce, give. 'Cause I've only got a few scenes of the two in my head from the comics and what they show on TV. I've read Hush and a few other Catwoman scenes in other Batman archs, but I'm not sure if I got her quite right yet. Eventually she'll be a somewhat consistent character.

I really don't have a lot of stories timed between the first Dami arch and the next one, but the next one should be a kicker. Due to multiple requests, I'm working on some one-on-one time short stories for this baby. For anyone reading 'Fixing Damian' in YJ, I'll be updating it at the end of this week. Vacation and all that. I'm still trying to iron out the next chapter for that one. 'Where's Robin?' followers... please hold your breath. It's not forgotten, really it's not. Just haven't worked out the next fight sequences quite yet. If you also followed 'Slade Plan B', you know I keep those promises. Took months to get back into it, and then it ended with a bang.

Oh, one more question: how would you get Damian to go from saying 'Fwader' to 'Daddy'?


	17. Grave Visits

Okay, this one was hard to write timing wise because I wanted certain people certain ages and I couldn't find a reasonable grave visiting holiday to match up! First it was mother's day, then memorial day, then I looked it up and both were in May. B[ I was gonna jump right into the next arch, but after hearing someone's suggestion, and a few others pleas, I realized this had to be done before the arch came out. ENJOY!

Dick-15 Jason-12 Cass-10 Tim-8 Damian-2

* * *

**Grave Visits**

Everyone was a little insecure when they came there. Always were. Course who could blame them. Being surrounded my numerous dead bodies does that to people, even if they are underground.

"C'mon," Dick edged Tim forward. "I'll help you find them."

Both were carrying bouquets, almost perfectly matching their individual parents' flowers at their weddings. Off to the side Jason only held the flowers his mother used to bring into their apartment. He was even more uncomfortable than the rest. He hadn't been to either parent's grave since their burials. Their adoptive father made a point of visiting his own parents' graves regularly. He was the only one who really gained comfort from them.

"I don't know…" Tim started, unsure as always. He had no memory of his parents, except for vague ones that sometimes made him wake up screaming. Coming to visit them was like trying to know Dick's or Bruce's parents. How could you miss someone you never met?

"Come on Timmy," Dick pushed. Unlike the others, he went to his parents graves at least five times a year. There was once even a time he went daily in order to talk to them when he was frustrated with Bruce. That was before he learned Batman's secret. After that secret was shared and Zucco taken care of, he only came by for holidays, birthdays, and their death anniversary. This though, this was the week many of their parents died. They should pay their respects then at the very least, and it set a good example for Damian. "Your mommy and daddy misses you. All our mommies and daddies miss us."

"Do I really have to go?" Jason asked, looking upwards to their father now.

Slowly the man nodded. "You've avoided it far too long. It's time you saw them again Jason."

"But I—"

"Last time you were here you were six. You're twelve now. I think you'll be fine." He gave a nod to Dick, letting him lead Tim towards where their parents' graves were. It was almost pure accident that theirs were so close together. Janet Drake had died little over a year before John and Mary Grayson. When Jack bought a plot in his family's cemetery, they ended up being very close together. Willis and Catherine Todd though were placed somewhere else. "We'll be with you the entire time."

Bruce repositioned Damian in his arms and inclined his head towards Cassandra looking at the epitaphs of different graves. Alfred was back at the gate, letting them have their time alone. His parents were long dead in London. Jason looked a little scared towards the ground as the other two wandered towards their designations. "We'll meet back at my parents' in half an hour."

"10-4," Dick called back, keeping the younger boy with him. He would have taken Cass with him to give Jay more privacy, but Tim was having his own trouble coming there. Maybe it was best to just let her wander the yard on her own. So the acrobat took the little genius to where their parents laid to rest.

"Come on." Bruce nudged the twelve year old along. "Cassandra, you coming?"

She shrugged. "Don't think so. Don't have someone to say hello to."

"Wouldn't want to meet your parents anyway," Jason added in a low tone before taking a step forward. Bruce nearly gave him a scowl but even Cass shrugged in agreement. She returned to wandering around and reading gravestones while the boys walked over to their destinations.

Bruce kept a close eye on Jason as they made it over to his parents' graves. Years ago the kid refused to go to his biological father's funeral. His mother's burial was done by the city and he had her casket moved to his family's cemetery to keep them together in peace. He hoped someday Jason would willingly come and pay his respects to them one day, but now half his life had passed and he hadn't gone to them once. He really needed closure.

"Do I really have to do this Dad?" He looked up to him, trying to hide his fear and failing.

"Yes, you do." The man readjusted his hold on the two year old he was carrying as they walked. He had to keep the boy focused, even if the other one was more interested in the wildlife over the graves and people in it. They weren't alone there. Cemeteries in Gotham were pretty active places, regardless of how many improvements had been made over the years.

"He really wasn't much of a dad you know." The preteen kept trying to have a strong face, and failing miserably. "I mean, he just up and left me and my mom one day. And for what? Some big score? A job with the mob? He was nothing like you. He wasn't brave or smart or just. Standing up to the bad guys, he'd never do that. He'd just…"

Jason looked away, ashamed of the man who sired him. "He was never really my dad. He didn't care about me. Or Mom."

Bruce sighed heavily. "This isn't about Willis. It's about Catherine, your mother."

The discussion caught Damian's attention when he said 'mother'. His older brother looked further away at the mentioning of his. His father could guess what the kid really felt when he became silent. Like Dick, he usually wasn't quiet for long, unless he was scared about something. Or ashamed. "Jason, you didn't abandon her."

"I should have stuck around," he murmured. At the heart of it all, he felt he was just like his old man. "I'm no better than he was for leaving."

"You were five years old. You were scared. And you saw a movie about runaways and orphanages. You did what any kid in your position would have done." Sadness filled his voice as he spoke. "Running away after finding your mother dead was only natural in your position. There was nothing you could have done. You didn't abandon her."

"I should have stayed." He looked towards his dad now a bit. "You did."

"There's a difference. I was in shock after they were murdered in front of me." The memory replayed itself in his mind. Bruce would never forget it. "Your mom died of cancer, in her sleep at home."

"I still should have stayed." A sardonic smile brushed on the boy's lips. "I really am my father's child."

Sorrow took over both their features, thinking about different things. Damian was the only one not saddened by the conversation, but kept watching the two curiously. They could see the Todd plots when Bruce spoke again.

"I looked into your dad's death, Jason." This jerked the kid's gaze around with a snap, wide eyed in shock. "In case you ever wanted to learn the truth. It was a bit too suspicious to me. Willis didn't abandon you two because he wanted to. He left to save your lives."

"What?" The kid couldn't believe what he was hearing. He gaped at the man he learned to call 'Dad' nearly half a lifetime ago.

"Willis Todd got in too deep with the wrong people, and realized it too late." Bruce's eyes locked onto the man in question's headstone. "Two-Face had a plan that would have killed about a third of Gotham, if your father hadn't intervened. He took a key component of his bomb and locked it somewhere safe where the police could get it. Two-Face tried to make him talk, tell him where it was, but clearly he hadn't.

"Your dad died a hero."

They were at the site now, Jason barely realizing they made it there. He was too transfixed on what his newer father had said, and what it meant. For a minute or two, his mind returned to a past he long tried to forget, the one with his birth parents. He remembered his mother's laughter in the kitchen at the dumb joke his father made. He remembered his dad telling him stories and changing what the animals said in the books he read him. He remembered how tired and scared the man looked the last time he saw him, and the smile he forced on his face when he told his family 'good night' for the last time. Now that he thought about it, other than his dad being a crook and leaving before his mother's death, there really weren't any bad memories with the man. He wasn't like Bruce, he knew that much, but he tried.

And his dad died a hero. His dad now wouldn't lie to him about that.

Now at the graves, he looked at them both, trying to even out his breathing. Why was it so hard to breathe now? Well it was hard before but nothing like now. For nearly seven years he hated his biological father. Built up a whole mythos around him of being an evil man who'd abandon his sick wife and young son. He didn't want to hear the truth about him when he was six, and Bruce didn't push him to know until now. And now here he was looking at two graves he avoided because of guilt and hate. What was he supposed to say?

"I'll leave you alone with them if you want," the man who took him in when he had nothing offered. This brought Jason's eyes back to him, wanting to stay a bit. Bruce smiled in understanding. "We won't be far."

The kid blinked a few times before looking back to his parents' graves and nodding. As Bruce turned away to read neighboring headstones, he could hear Jason starting to talk, shakily. "Momma? Daddy? Hi. I…"

A little ways off, Bruce smiled a little to himself, silently prodding Damian to look elsewhere other than at Jason talking to his parents at last. "Fwader?"

"Hm?"

"Wats Daddy?" The two year old blinked at him innocently. It made the man blink as well. For months his siblings were trying to get the kid to call him 'Daddy'. Timmy was starting to go by Tim these days in an attempt to grow up, and 'Dad' came out of his mouth more often. Dick had even referred to Bruce as 'Daddy' around the toddler, though never to him directly. Until then, the boy had never called him that.

"Daddy is Father," Bruce tried to explain, hiding his own joy in being called that. "Father is Daddy. It's the same name for the same person in your life. Everyone has a father and a mother, a daddy and a mommy."

"Where mudder?" Damian asked, the next logical question anyone would ask given the circumstance. Hearing it though made Bruce sad.

'_Oh Talia…_' "Your mother… She's not really the nicest lady in the world. She left Daddy before you were born." He held the boy close, wishing he didn't have to tell the boy at all. More than likely he'd forget it soon. "But I'll be your Daddy and Mommy for now. At least until I can find someone who will be a Mommy to you."

"No," the kid exclaimed, pouting a little. Blinking in surprise for a moment, he was really taken back when Damian instead snuggled up to him, hugging him around his neck. "You my Daddy."

This made the man's heart warm, and he gladly took the hug from his baby boy. "Yes, I'm your Daddy. And Timmy's and Cassandra's and Jason's and Dick's. Can you share with them?"

Reluctantly the tiny boy nodded, rewarding him with a back rub with his hug. "That's my good boy."

* * *

As promised, at the end of the half hour everyone was waiting at the headstone of Martha and Thomas Wayne, Bruce's parents. Alfred had brought over two roses as was Bruce's personal tradition when visiting the site, and a picnic basket to cheer up the depressed earlier adoptions. Dick was holding on to Damian now while both Jason and Tim fought to be on Bruce's lap for comfort. Neither of them knew what to say to people they barely knew or never met, but still felt strong ties to the people who rested there. Cassandra seemed to be the only one there perfectly at ease, nibbling on a sandwich she managed to filch out of the basket early. To her, this place merely was a garden filled with stone baring names.

"Stop shoving!"

"You get off! You're way too big!"

"Quit being a big baby!"

"How old are you?"

"Enough, both of you." Bruce gripped the bridge of his nose, wincing at the oncoming headache from listening to those two bicker. "There's plenty of room for the two of you, so stop fighting."

"Can we join in then?" Dick joked, grinning like always. He hid the fact he had cried at his parents' graves pretty well in comparison to the others. Course, he had practice.

Bruce gave him a quick glare. "I don't think do. Pass me a sandwich."

"Tea sir?" Alfred dutifully offered a sturdy cup over to the man, hiding an amused smile at the sight before him. The head of the household gladly accepted it, careful not to drip on himself. On the boys' heads was another story.

"DAD!"

This won a short chuckle from nearly everyone not being dripped on. Bruce looked over to his parents' names, thinking rather than saying what he wanted to tell them this time. '_Well, you wanted grandchildren right? Hope you like them as much as I do._'

"Daddy." They nearly all jerked around violently when they heard the youngest speak. "Firsty."

"Did he just…"

* * *

A/N: honest to goodness, did not know how to end this one. So this is how Dami starts calling him Daddy, and how Jason starts coming to terms with his parents' deaths. I based Willis' death on both BTAS's "Tim's" (who is actually Jason in disguise) dad's death and from the comics. I had Cass wandering the graves like I used to whenever I visited a cemetery I had no relatives in, reading epitaphs. Think mine may say 'Found that seventh dragonball yet?' XD

I think next will be the next arch. Guess which favorite story it will be based on? =D


	18. Big Brother's Privilege

Sorry for the delay on the next arch, but wanted to get this story out. Different people suggested something similar so I did this. In other news, it's my big 25th B-Day! What am I doing? not sure. Oh well.

OH! one last bit. His is pre-dami. Check timeline once in a while

Dick-14 Jason-11

* * *

**Big Brother's Privilege**

Seriously, Jason was just being a loud mouthed brat. He liked to make fun of all the older kids, make comments about their looks or their habits. He was particularly snarky with rich kids who thought they could survive on their own on the streets.

"Seriously? With those manicures of yours?" The former street rat laughed out loud at the grungy looking preps, whose ratty jackets and pants were still designers. If their parents bothered to pay attention, they would be horrified at what their money bought them. "You wouldn't last five minutes in Crime Alley, precious. You ladies are better off at your tea parties."

The troublesome kid tried to walk away, laughing safely away on the other side of the fence dividing the Elementary and Secondary divisions of Gotham Academy. Tried. He was making fun of upper class_men_ who were not only smoking on the side of school grounds, but knew all the holes between the great divide as well. There was no camera to catch what happened next, or what happened each time Jason mouthed off to those guys or just came nearby after a while.

"Jay, where'd you get that?" Dick asked once while they were going through their tumbling training. Cass and Timmy were off working on upper arm body strength not too far off. But the two of them were working on falls and flips, ways to avoid capture in different situations. Jason was slowly getting better at acrobatics, but since the first time Dick took him flying, he'd been hesitant to try the trapeze again.

Quickly the younger boy looked away, scowling to himself while coming up with a convincing lie. "Got knocked into a doorknob at school on accident."

"Hardly looks like a doorknob." Dick tried to grab Jason's arm so he could get a better look at the bruise on his shoulder, but saw the kid flinch away when his grip slipped. Another bruise was forming right where he touched. "What the…"

"Doesn't matter." Jay turned towards the mat and tried to press on without any more questions. "Now are ya gonna teach me that throw or not?"

The acrobat gave him a questioning glare, also slipping into slang like the two always did when one of them as stressed. "I get the feeling you wanna learn more than just throws or falls."

"Just teach me already before I tell Dad about that date of yours last weekend."

This shut the teen right up. He fell off the grid, breaking rule 4 for a few hours one night, to see a girl in his geometry class. How Jason knew about that date he couldn't tell. Probably saw him sneaking out or popped into his room while he was gone. Either way, if the kid told, Dick would be in major trouble with Bruce. The man always turned to stone when Dick tried to talk to him about going on dates. At the rate the man was going, the teen wouldn't have an official girlfriend until he was in his thirties.

"Fine." Blackmailed into silence, the acrobat went back to work helping his brother learn a more complicated move. Hopefully it'd help him out next time he got into a fight.

* * *

"Where'd a punk like that learn that move?" Jimmy Stewart asked his friends.

Dick tried to ignore the morons he was sure smoked at the edge of campus (in what was supposed to be a make-out spot) coming through the bathroom doors. He was trying to finish his biology homework without being disturbed by different clubs begging him to join up so they could win their next competition. And the sports teams kept hounding him after they saw him on the PE fields. And then there were the gold diggers and wannabe best friends. As friendly and social as Dick was, he did not want to overload himself with that much activity. So whenever he had homework due later in the afternoon, he snuck into a bathroom stall at lunch.

Unfortunately idiots tended to gravitate that way too. And he had to hear all the dirty rumors that came with them. And smell them. Oh joy.

"Yeah seriously," Conner Edwards chimed back. "You'd think he was trained by a pro the way he threw you around." The guy's friends laughed loudly, mocking him for all it was worth.

"Shut up…"

"Think he learned that one on the streets?" Hank Timbleton asked back.

Inside Dick groaned at himself for actually paying attention, even remembering names and faces of those who attended his school based off of voice alone. Stupid habit Bruce got him on back when he was small and kept getting kidnapped or threatened. Know your surroundings, know your enemies, and you're less likely to get hurt or taken. If either does happen, then you know exactly who to blame. That helped a lot later.

"That street rat, charity case?" Stewart scoffed. "He probably saw it on TV and got lucky, that's all. Didn't help the brat anyway. We got him good."

He and his friends laughed to themselves. Dick glared through the stall door as the boys congratulated themselves. Gloating over beating up some kid… "Street rat… Charity case?" he mouthed silently. Wheels started turning in his head as he kept listening.

"Yeah, thinks he's so tough? We sure showed him!"

"That'll teach him to mouth off to us."

"How old is that brat anyway? Twelve?"

"Who cares!" Stewart was taking the lead again. "Just because his new '_daddy_' is the 'crowned prince of Gotham' doesn't give him any right to make jibes at us. That trash should have stayed in the gutter where he belongs!"

"YEAH!" The rest cheered. They kept congratulating themselves as they finished their macho business then left, with only half the sinks being used by their numbers.

Dick leaned back on his seat, his homework long forgotten as he made sense of what he heard. Those guys were sophomores, older and bigger than him. "Okay Jay," he murmured to himself, worry starting to grow within him. "What did you get yourself into this time?"

* * *

"Quit holding back!" Jason demanded the following afternoon. The kid was angrier than usual, and considering this was Jason, that wasn't too surprising. Especially if Dick was right. The previous afternoon the kid had hidden a limp (he was always better at hiding injuries than anyone, even Bruce) when coming to the car. He spent the majority of the afternoon and evening in his room, claiming it was homework. Dick was pretty certain it was a new set of bruises. And judging by the sloppy moves the guy was making, and the bulges under his clothes, he was right.

"Right, I'm just supposed to go all out and make your bruises worse then?" He twisted the younger boy's arm behind him, pinning him to the ground. Most days Jason would be able to use that trick against him, but this time he only hissed in pain, clenching his jaw. This only drove worried needles into the teen's heart. "Jaybird, seriously! You should talk to Bruce about—"

"What's it matter to you!" Jason demanded sharply, twisting into the hold to throw Dick off and earn himself some freedom. It only worked because Dick let it. Neither of them were attacking this time. It was a good thing no one else was in the room and they threw a towel over the security camera. "You've never cared before what's happened to me!"

"That's because you usually can handle it." The acrobat motioned to the hidden bruises under the kid's long sleeve shirt. Considering this guy liked to wear tanks while training, it was pretty clear he was hiding something. "Look, I know you don't want help but you should—"

"Who were you seeing the other day again?" Dick clamped his mouth shut, gritting his teeth. Jason's knowing smirk taunted him. "Was her name Vanessa or Natasha?"

"April."

"I'm quite certain I saw lips touching."

"Okay, I got it!" Dick leapt to his feet, glaring at the kid blackmailing him to silence. "Don't tell Bruce. Don't tell Alfred! Don't bother asking for help! Do what you want!" He glared at him, trying to convince himself he didn't care anymore. But that was a lie, and his eyes couldn't hide it. "Just don't get beaten up anymore. They're not blind you know."

The teen jerked himself away, marching out of the room and taking his towel off the camera so Alfred wouldn't tell him off later. If Jason wanted to be a punching bag the rest of his life, let him. He'd just wait to see how that went next time. Because of his agitated state, he didn't see the slightly hurt and bitter glare Jason threw at the floor, clenching his fists tightly. Seeing it probably would have started another argument anyway.

* * *

"Hey street rat!"

Jason froze for a moment when he heard that voice saying that name. He wasn't anywhere near the great divide that day and here the jerk faces were, calling him out. He was just taking a nap in an isolated part of his playground that afternoon, a blind spot in security bullies used to take little kids to for hazing. Used to. After Jason beat most of them up and claimed the spot for his napping grounds, they stopped. Course Dick had a hand in that event back when they went to the same school.

And now here came a new batch of bullies, seven of them, and all much older and bigger than him. "Ah crap." He turned his head slightly towards them, still lying on the ground and pretending not to care. "Can't you pricks just leave me alone? I haven't come by your place in days! Almost two weeks!"

"We missed you Jonny Boy!" The leader of the group grabbed his forehead and started to grind the kid's head into the ground, grinning. The punk's friends started to laugh, surrounding him. "Wanted to come by and play some more."

"Not interested." Jason grabbed the guy's hand and drove his nails into it before kicking his feet up and over the slime ball. Using one of Dick's acrobatic tricks, he managed to land his backflip on the jerk's back, thrusting him headlong into the ground, before making a second backflip onto the ground outside their circle. He gave them a challenging grin. "Next time I wanna play with you, I'll ask."

"Get him!"

Thus started Jason's chase around campus, evading cameras and all of that guy's friends for as long as he could. Unfortunately one of them had set the high school's track record. He was caught after ten minutes. Their leader grinned, flexing his wounded hand before punching his open palm. "Now, how about a game, shall we?"

* * *

"Is something the matter with Master Jason?" Alfred asked Dick that evening. The kid was silent when he entered the car after school, not looking at anyone, particularly Dick and Alfred. Jason claimed homework and wanting to go to bed early for a test the next day, so he hadn't left his room since they came home. Had Bruce been home and not on a business trip in Brazil, he would have investigated what was going on, asked questions. Jason usually talked to him more than Alfred when he holed himself away.

"I think he's got a stomachache," Dick offered, keeping his eyes on his homework. He thought the real problem had passed when Jason stopped sporting new bruises and was wearing short sleeved shirts again. Apparently not, just avoided it for a while. He looked up and smiled at the old man reassuringly. "I'll get him dinner later, okay?"

The wise old butler eyed him for a moment, doubting. But Dick was getting much better at lying, especially when he made them half-truths. So he relented, preparing the younger lad's tray for delivery, complete with cookies to cheer him up and an herb tea to settle stomachs. Dick took it and a med kit when the man was very busy helping Timmy and Cassandra get cleaned up after making a spaghetti mess from dinner.

"Candy gram for Mr. Filch!"

"Is it real candy?" he heard through the door.

"No, but there's real cookies, spaghetti, tea, broccoli, cottage cheese, and breadsticks, just the way you like them. Extra breadsticks too." Dick kicked the lower part of the door. "Open up, my hands are full."

After a few minutes, and a lot of thumping and grumbling (good thing Alfred was far down stairs), he heard the door unlock and creek open. That was all the invitation Dick needed. Quickly he forced his way in and closed the door with his foot so Jason couldn't argue. "Took you long enough. Did you sprain your ankle this time or something?"

"Shut up Dick." The kid glared daggers at him, hobbling over to his desk where the tray was set. "Unless you want Dad to hear about April."

"Andrea this time," the teen corrected, twisting the chair around so Jason could sit in it easier.

The kid gave him a bewildered glare. "You sure get around."

"They ask me out." He shook his head in frustration. "I can't just say no. I've tried and then they get all whiney and clingy and cry all over me. So I promised them all one date." Dick took the first aid kit and knelt at Jason's feet to see that the damage was. "Let me take a look."

"No way," Jay stubbornly refused, receiving a glare in return.

"Either I look and try to take care of it, or I go to Alfred, regardless of what you have on me." This shut the kid up at last, giving the older brother some relief. He immediately started looking over the several bruises (thankfully just bruises) on his legs and feet. He'd been kicked around on the ground by several people. Dick glared at them as he started applying what balms he could and wrapping them up for the boy's comfort.

"Anyway, as I was saying, they ask me out. I give them one date, tell them I had fun, but then I tell them Bruce melted a chastity belt around my waist so they should probably move on."

Jason actually started laughing at the story. "Seriously? You say that?"

"More or less." He moved upwards, checking the kid's ribs. The way he hissed when he prodded one side he knew a few of them were cracked. They really should be checked by a professional like Alfred or Leslie. But he hid cracked ribs before after taking a fall. He knew how to tape them up, and did so quickly. "They're all cute, but they're either after my good looks or Bruce's money."

"Quit braggin' Goldie." He shook his head, still smirking a bit. "I only get asked to play with a bunch of uglies."

"You really should avoid those uglies," Dick insisted. He moved on to other bruises. This kid had taken quite a beating.

"I tried!" His eyes desperately searched for understanding this time, no longer caring if Dick knew. At least someone was on his side, and it was nice to talk to someone. "Really! I was minding my own business, not even going near them, and they snuck up on campus to take me down. Said it was fun."

"Get any good hits in?" the acrobat asked curiously. He was nearly done, and it bothered him how much ointment and wraps he had to use on his brother. Anyone with that many bruises and was still able to think straight had to be made of stern stuff. The streets of Gotham really made a tough kid out of him, and he was only there for a year.

"A few," Jason smirked in pride. "Got their leader's hand pretty good, then flipped off his back. Just like you did to Barry a few months back."

"Oh yeah!" Dick grinned to himself, remembering that move. "That was fun. Learned it while practicing my tumbling at the circus with the other kids. We kept coming up with new routines for when we took over. Boy that brings back memories."

"I bet. What is this stuff?" The two boys looked into the tea cup Alfred had put on the tray, still steaming hot.

"Some herbal remedy for stomachaches." He waved it off as he packed up what was left of the kit he was using. "Best I could come up with to explain your behavior. We can dump it down the drain. Now those cookies…"

* * *

Jimmy Stewart took a long drag from his cigarette before flexing his hand again. It was well taken care of but it itched like crazy since the street rat, charity case scarred him. The little punk was going to pay dearly. Oh wait, he already did. For a while.

"You know," his friend Mark Conroy started, "if that brat starts talking, we'll be in big time trouble with his old man."

"Oh please!" John Evans started, leaning back against the red rock building behind him. "One thing that brat isn't, is a squealer. He'll wanna take care of us himself. Stupid kid can't win."

"Only thing he can do is hide," Conner Edwards laughed, and the others joined in. After a minute, he made a sneering offer. "Hey, anyone wanna play another round with him?"

"Sounds good to me." Stewart flicked his butt away then stood up, stretching his back a bit. He gave a toothy grin to his friends. "Maybe this time we should throw him under a bus."

"Ooo…. Doesn't that count as attemptive first degree murder?"

They all jerked their heads around when the child protégée nearly everyone wanted in their circle of friends spoke nearby. He was leaning against a tree, smiling a little at them as if they were having tea. "I believe that's a felony even minors can't get away with. Never wash that slate clean."

"What are you doing here?" Evans demanded, his muscles bulging under his tight shirt.

"Looking for places to take girls," he answered coyly. "But I wasn't expecting finding a place to pick them up instead. Ugly smelly ones, but still…"

"Oh…" Stewart gave the guy a dark grin. "You just made a big mistake."

"No I didn't. You did." The famed golden boy pushed himself off the tree a bit, falling into a firm stance with two sticks in his hands, glaring death upon them. "The day you took a snarky eleven year old's words to heart and decided to 'teach him a lesson' and thought it was fun."

"It was fun," he started, still grinning, "but I think we just found a new toy. Get 'em."

All at once ten sophomores, all well-built and practiced in 'street brawls', charged at the lone acrobat, flailing their arms around wildly to take him down. None of them noticed the Cheshire smile that grew on his face.

"Bring it."

* * *

The fight was remarkably short. Ten, maybe fifteen minutes at most. Lunch didn't last forever after all and Dick still wanted to get his homework done, plus eat. It was for this reason he picked up some dowels and brought them to the fight. Made it faster. Plus all seven charged at the same time. Clumsy fools never fought someone who took on groups before. Sure Jason had taken on five at one time, but they were all his age and size then, and attacked separately. Big difference from when Dick used to take out those who called him a circus freak, charity case, and even booty-boy. He took out three or four daily for a while.

And he learned the bigger and dumber the group, the less you actually had to fight. Majority of the losers knocked each other out. Another portion he had to be hit in painful locations with Dick's sticks before they keeled over. Most of the time, the acrobat just dodged them and let them hurt themselves. The guys were idiots. No wonder they dressed like Hollywood hobos.

Knocking out both of Jimmy Stewart's knees and kneeling on top of his arms was pretty gratifying for Dick by the end of it, especially with those dowels crossing over the moron's neck. The acrobat's glare could compete with Batman's at that point. "Let's make this clear. Don't go after Jason Todd again, or I'll come back and break limbs. May even bring in a few others who do it better. You say a word about this and I'll deny it. My record's much better than yours, and who would believe I took down all of you alone? Got it?"

Trembling and winded, Jimmy nodded. Dick smirked darkly, creeping him out even more. "Oh, and one more thing." He leaned next to the guy's ear, putting more pressure on his arms than before. "You come after me, Jason, or anyone else in my family, and the next time I come around, I'll use blades."

This sent shivers down the guy's spine faster than seeing the guy fight. Satisfied that this would not be happening again, the acrobat nodded, smiling cheerily as he pushed himself up. He was about to walk away when he added, "Oh, to answer your questions from earlier, I taught Jay a good portion of those moves. The rest he learned from Bruce or the streets. You guys really are pansies if you can't make it to class or school after this. He did."

And he left the garbage to rot with those cheery thoughts, ignoring the throbbing starting in the locations the punks actually had managed to hit.

* * *

Dick was listening to his iPod on their way home that afternoon, dozing a bit when Jason saw a bruise forming and poking out of the teen's sleeve. He looked over the guy for a bit before taking out his cell and texting him. They had promised not to 'talk' about what fights they got away with after all.

_J: where'd U get those bruises?_

The teen jerked alert when his phone buzzed. Confused at first, he took it out and read the text. He raised an eyebrow to the kid before answering.

_D: Seriously? You're texting me? Here?_

Jason glared back.

_J: answer the damn question._

Dick smirked before answering again.

_D: Rule 6 Jaybird. Temper temper temper!_

The other boy glared over to the elder, silently urging him to answer for real. Finally Dick did.

_D: Got it while fulfilling my big brother duties._

_J: huh?_

The younger one gave him a confused look, nearly making the older laugh. So he explained.

_D: no one can beat you up except me_.

Jason jerked his head around to see if the guy was serious. Judging by the slight smirk on the guy's face, it may have been. It made him roll his eyes.

_J: That's supposed 2 help?_

"Dick," Timmy started, spotting the bruise Jason noted earlier, "where'd you get that?"

"This?" The teenager lifted his wrist and took a look at it curiously. "Huh. Dunno. Must have gotten it when I was climbing trees at lunch."

The little genius gave him a slight glare. "You need to stop climbing trees."

A smirk crossed both his older brothers' lips. 'Tree' was their code word for fight back when they got into them daily but weren't caught. "I'll try to remember that," the guy joked as he pressed send for the last time.

_D: yep =P_

* * *

A/N: XD yeah, one thing about being the younger sibling that rocks is that you've got a lot of people who'll watch your back, even if they'll torture you at home. It's the whole "this is my toy! you aren't allowed to play with it! so there! NEH!" So here we get to see a bit of Dick's darker side, the side that pops out whenever his family is being threatened. Boys being boys, they aren't going to talk about this.

If anyone gets my tree reference, I'm enjoying your squeals of laughter right now. X3

So yeah, someone mentioned that there should be a story on how Dick only takes care of Timmy and Jason's jealous or something, but this really is what goes behind the scenes. Since Jason for the most part probably wouldn't like being saved directly by his brother, Dick doesn't go out of his way to watch over him. But if he learns of a problem, he's likely to take care of it. Most of the time Jason can handle himself, at least I think so. Will they bring anyone else in on it? Probably not.

On an unrelated note, I do have _a_ poll on my profile. it's not that important, but it is fun. the next arch will be appearing tomorrow.


	19. DITF: Breaking Birds

Okay, I was hoping to fill in the time gap before coming out with this arch, but I've hit a slow point in my one-shot madness. I have to look back to other people's suggestions. This next arch is based loosely off of a huge turning point in the Batman comics. Yes, they're a lot younger than they should be, but who cares! Prepare to see things break.

Jason-12

* * *

**Breaking Birds**

Bruce just sat at the side of the medical bed, watching his son resting after his long series of surgeries. Alfred was watching the others in the lobby, despite the late hour. All of them should probably go home after this long and grueling day, but none quite felt up to it. They nearly lost one of their own. Technically he died twice on the operating table. If it weren't for his strong brainwaves and heartbeat, doctors would have said to just let the boy go.

But Jason was a fighter. He would not go down.

The twelve year old was wrapped in so much gauze it was hard to distinguish it was him. Both legs were broken from the beating he took. Clean breaks. Leslie promised they'd heal quickly. His jaw was cracked as well and he had lost the last of his baby teeth. One shoulder was dislocated and several more deep bruises covered his body. Two broken ribs and a punctured lung required he be on a breathing tube for a while. To keep him from struggling the boy was in a medically induced coma to heal. Sprained wrist, three broken fingers, broken tailbone, fractured skull… The list went on. Still, it was better than the alternative, wasn't it?

Bruce just watched his boy and his vitals from his chair, fingers interlaced across his mouth. Seeing him in this state… knowing what pain he had to have endured… thinking of the future and how his boy could be when he woke up… Daggers kept entering his chest with every thought, with every wound his son suffered. How could he have let this happen!

"Save your apologies," he murmured without looking. "You didn't do anything wrong."

Superman let his feet touch the ground after floating through the window, eyes worried as he watched the pair. "I should have gotten there sooner. Should have saved the woman there too."

"Jason hadn't sent any alert until then," Wayne murmured. "Even I thought everything was going alright. You were flying blind in that warehouse; old ones are covered in lead paint. Saving him before the explosion… I'm certain she would have wanted it that way."

The man of steel was silent for a moment before asking. "Who was she? You never leave anyone with them unless you've done a thorough background check."

"Sheila Haywood, Jason mother."

This took the alien for a spin. "What? His mother? But I thought—"

"So did I, until recently." Bruce closed his eyes for a moment before beginning his tale. "May as well write this down Mr. Kent. It's an exclusive on something I won't be repeating to the press any time soon.

"A couple weeks ago was my parents' anniversary for their deaths. You know I like to visit that alleyway they were killed in every year. Usually I go alone, but Jason wanted to visit his old neighborhood as well. It was one of my yearly visits there that led to his adoption after all. We were separated not long after arriving so he could try to remember the old times there. Half his life was in Crime Alley, and the other half with me. I let him wander, but reminded him to stay close. About half an hour later he returned, a bit nervous and excited at the same time, carrying a cardboard box

"In the car he told me how he ran into one of his old neighbors, one who actually gave a care for him and his mother Catherine. When she died and he ran away to avoid civil services, he left quite a bit behind. Mrs. Walker had saved a few personal items for him in case he ever came back when the landlord sold off his family's belongings. I would have gathered them myself six years ago, but Jason at that point didn't want anything more to do with his old family, or his past. I still don't know which building he once lived in. He finally had moved past the pain I guess.

"We took the box home and took it to his room. Tim was interested in what was inside and the three of us started going through its contents. Jason finally had a picture of his parents, and his mother's wedding ring. Also some old drawings of his and a few records. The birth certificate was the document that caused the most amounts of relief, and trouble."

Bruce finally looked over to the man of steel, trying to be like the said metal and failing. It was hard to be strong as he recounted the events leading to this disaster. "While Jason was reading it, he found the mother's name had been damaged by water. But the first letter was an S. Catherine wasn't his biological mother. After a few minutes reassuring him that her feelings for him were enough to be his mother, he asked if his real mother was still alive. I had no answers. I didn't even know Catherine was his step-mother after all. If I had known or suspected, I would have looked for her years ago and reunited them.

"But the question lingered in his mind enough to start looking through what was left of his family's possessions again to try and find the truth. Jason found his father's old address book and located three women whose first names started with S: Sharmin Rosen, Shiva Woosan, and Dr. Sheila Haywood."

"Shiva!" Superman's eyes grew wide.

"Yes, Lady Shiva, the assassin." He bit back another comment, something about the lady. He really didn't like the woman. "Willis must have known her before she became a mercenary. Before…"

He bit back something yet again, something he did not feel ready to share. Bruce put his eyes back on Jason as he continued to speak. "The only way to know for certain who his mother was, was to ask them or get DNA tests. I used my connections to get in contact with Rosen. She's never given birth. I managed to knock out Shiva as a possibility by comparing Jason's blood with an earlier acquired sample. The only one I couldn't knock off the list was Haywood. There was the possibility that she wasn't his mother, but…"

Bruce looked off listlessly, remembering when he and Jason managed to finally find the woman. She had entrenched herself in a rundown area just outside of Gotham, being the emergency doctor for immigrants who hadn't found stable work yet. The look on her face when the two met…"As soon as I saw her, I knew we hit pay-dirt. Jason has her eyes. I left them alone together to get reacquainted. That was this morning."

Superman's eyes left the heartbroken man and back to the beaten boy who nearly died at one that day. Who would have if he hadn't saved him before the impending explosion. The kid was still conscious then too, barely able to talk. He was looking over the man of steel's shoulder, back to the warehouse and trying to reach towards it.

"You… have to… save her… Joker… he…"

Then the building exploded and Jason jerked towards it horrified. "NOOO!"

"Jason! Hold still!"

"MOM! NO! Mom…" Then the kid passed out, tears streaming down his face. The kryptonian thought the boy was hallucinating back then, took too many blows to the head, but now…

"I should have been able to save her," he murmured once again. "Should have seen her."

"The blame is mine." Bruce ran his hands through his hair, head down in grief at long last. He trembled slightly as he spoke. "Jason never should have been there. I should have talked to the woman alone first, gotten to know who she was, then had the two meet at a safe location. This never should have…"

Thoughts ran through his mind like the tears racing out of his eyes. If he had found those documents first, done the investigation years ago, all of this could be avoided. If he had simply hidden the information on the certificate, there wouldn't have been an investigation to begin with. Had they not separated on Park Row a few weeks back, none of this could have happened. Everything was right in their world until then.

Jason wasn't curious about his family after being taken in six years ago. He wanted to forget his step-mother's death and his father's abandonment. He was happy being Bruce's son, happy having so many siblings, happy with his odd array of surrogate uncles and aunts. He was happy three weeks ago. Now…

The delicate beeping and rhythmic breathing was all that assured the man his willful, trouble making, second child was alive. The boy had been so excited that morning to meet Sheila, his mother. No one else had that kind of opportunity yet. He hoped for the other two whose mothers yet lived, that they never would. Sheila had one possible stain on her record, but for the most part was on the up and up. And the look in her eye when she saw Jason… Both pieces together was what made Bruce leave them alone for a few hours. Alone to think about the boy's future.

Now Jason's mother was dead. He really had no blood relatives anymore. Only the mishmash family he'd grown to love. What had happened to take the two to that warehouse was a secret between Sheila and Jason. How he had ended up like that and his mother tied to a support beam to die in the impending explosion was a mystery until the boy could wake up and talk about it. Doctors said he'd wake up and could breathe on his own in about two days. Whether he could talk about it then was an even bigger mystery. He had lost his mother to death twice. Who could handle that?

Bruce felt a supportive hand on his shoulder after a few minutes of silence. "It's not your fault Bruce. We'll find who did this. And he'll go away for a long time. Jason will pull through, you'll see."

Silence stood there for a long moment, bringing little comfort to the men. They watched the boy sleep still, nearly counting every wound he had suffered once again. Some of the Bat's old stubbornness returned to his face, a light of vengeance sparking in his eye. "I know. I'll make sure of it."

* * *

A/N: *squee* like it? In my mind, the dead stay dead. I actually have 'A Death in the Family' and the movie 'Under the Red Hood', so I've taken a lot from those. This one has three follow-ups, so look out for them. Like I told someone, there are other fates than death out there, some much worse and having the same effect on people. X3

Thanks for the well wishes yesterday! Oh, there's some artwork for this arch on my DA page, just an FYI. ;P


	20. DITF: Broken

Heh... now to see the results of what happened that day. Like I've said before, there are fates worse or on par with death in my head. This is one of them after a highly traumatic experience. and during hard times like this, some people take it easier than other and some step up to the tasks ahead, while others crumble to bits. Lots of quotes from both 'A death in the family' and 'under the redhood' movie. Did a lot of stop and go to make sure I got it right.

Dick-15 Jason-12

* * *

**Broken**

The only thing he could hear was laughter, insane laughter.

"Whoa, that looked like it hurt." Something struck him a few times then stopped as he turned over. "No, wait, that looked like it hurt a lot more. So let's try to clear this up, okay pumpkin? What hurts more? A, or B? Front hand, or back hand?"

Fire and knives burned inside him with every blow. He didn't yell or scream. That madman promised to slit the lady's throat if he did. He had been knocked about on the ground so much, it was hard to move any of his limbs, let alone the emergency beacon on his wrist. Help would not be coming any time soon.

There was a short reprieve as the clown laughed to himself in victory. Trying to be brave, he glared at the nutzo and started murmuring curses. This caught the assailant's attention and he crouched next to him, grinding his head into the pavement. "Eh? Eh? A little louder lamb chop. I think you may have a collapsed lung. That always impedes the oratory."

Boldly he spat on the criminal, earning a full face grinding into the pavement. "Now that was just rude. Didn't your father ever teach you any manners? Looks like I'll just have to teach you a lesson so you don't embarrass him." The nut thought over it for a moment then grinned again. "Nah. I'm just gonna keep beating you with this crowbar."

The beating continued relentlessly, breaking skin and bones. He didn't have the energy or will to cry out now. The woman he just met that day had turned away and started smoking to distract herself from the beating, seemingly not to care anymore. When he was no longer moving of his own accord, a possum trick he learned from earlier kidnappings, the clown stopped hitting him.

"My that was fun. Kind of messy though."

"Mr. Wayne won't be too happy about you hurting him." That woman had dared to speak now. She was the one who put this whole thing together. How dare she… but she's… The pain of betrayal ate at him more than the beating had. "What are you going to do when you return him for the ransom?"

"Ransom? Who said anything about ransom?" The clown grinned, snapping his fingers at the men in the room. "It's your fault deary. Getting the kid involved like that. Shame shame. Tie her up boys."

"Joker no!"

"Shame you had to witness this little display of my temper, Sheila. But I can't have any evidence. Dear old Batsy is still out there, somewhere, and I can't have anything linking me to this, or anything. Need the cash you see. Been running low on bullets and knives and all that. Good thing I always have some explosives on hand. You have ten minutes. Well, ta ta!"

"Joker no! You can't… you… this isn't fair, Joker. I played straight with you." He didn't hear the woman's voice anymore. It was too low for him now. But the crazy had come close to him again.

"Okay kiddo, I've gotta go. It's been fun though right?" The nut paused a moment as if waiting for a response. There wasn't one. "Well, maybe a smidge more fun for me than you. I'm just guessing, 'cause you're being awful quiet.

"Anyway, be a good boy, finish your homework and be in bed by nine. And hey!" He knew the madman was grinning now more than ever. "Please tell the big man I said, 'hello'."

A maniacal laughter followed, closely followed by the slamming and locking of a heavy door. The beeping of the bomb then was the only sound he heard. Even that woman had fallen silent. He stayed still a few minutes longer, catching his breath, before finally reaching his watch. He twisted the sides of it a few times and grinned to himself. Help would soon be on the way.

He dared to open a swollen eye and look for the lady. He should save her too. Dad would. Everyone else would. Slowly he started crawling towards her to help.

But the time ran out. And now he was in a grave, still alive.

"AAAHHH!"

Like always Jason woke up screaming from that nightmare, clawing at the air above him. His continual fears of waking up there were only matched with Bruce being the one taking that woman's place. Thankfully, the man was the only one he could completely trust. Especially since the man was already coming into his room to help him calm down.

"Shhhh… It's alright Jason. You're safe." The man had his arms wrapped around him, holding close to reassure him. The boy clung to him desperately, shaking in fear from the memories and twisting nightmares. The only time he spoke above a whisper these days was when he woke from these terrifying dreams, and only to scream at that. "You're safe. I'm here Jason. I'm here."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Jason trembled from head to foot as he whispered incoherently. "Couldn't save her. Couldn't stop him. I'm sorry. Don't let him hurt me. Please don't let him…"

"Shhhh… it's okay. You did your best. He's not going to hurt you anymore. No one's going to hurt you." Bruce rocked his boy gently, running a hand through his sweaty hair to help calm him. His eye fell on the white lock now ever present in his black mane. The incident had left more scars on him than any amount of battles the man had once faced. Stress and fear explained the stubborn change in hair color, and it was likely it was there to stay. A reminder of what had happened to him.

As if the nightmares weren't enough. Nearly every night since that terrible day Jason dreamt of it. The beating, the explosion, leaving his birth mother behind. Survivor's guilt added to whatever secrets he was hiding about the event. He only said a few things about it when he woke from his coma two months ago.

"Joker did it, and he's trafficking pills overseas."

It was the only definitive statement the boy made before falling into his perpetual quiet and shocked state. Rarely speaking, hardly talking, never smiling or playing. Jason was a shadow of his old self. While Bruce had sent Superman to stop Joker and bring him back for trial, the man had talked to doctors and everyone recommended their own psychiatrist for Jason. But no matter what initial interviews were given, Jason wouldn't talk. Only his family heard his voice, and rarely at that. Whatever happened while being beaten near to death, or whatever connections he put in his mind played out, he just wasn't ready to deal with it yet.

So he remained in a perpetual state of shock, for two months.

The young boy's legs had healed; most of his wounds in fact were well taken care of. He obediently did physical therapy, but he enjoyed nothing. No smiles, no jokes, didn't even try to tease his younger siblings like he used to. No pranks, no rude remarks, he'd never been so well behaved. It just wasn't right.

And all because of one man.

Bruce fought hard in his mind to think only of his son and not of the man who had escaped justice for this one act. He had to focus on bringing his boy out of his shocked state and back into reality. Jason couldn't be a victim forever. He was a fighter, a survivor. How else had a five year old manage on the streets for a year before they met? Jason had to pull through this. He would, somehow.

As the boy slowly calmed down and drifted back to sleep in the security of his father's arms, Bruce thought of what he could try to ease him out of his shocked state. Two months of being nearly catatonic was too much. There had to be a way to help him snap out of it. But what? He'd nearly had a panic attack when Dick tried tickling him into laughing. He avoided his siblings often, wanting to be alone. Not even Alfred could stay near him longer than ten minutes before he retreated to a silent corner of the room. Bruce seemed to be the one exception, and he was sure it was because Jason felt safest with him. Joker could never best Batman after all, and every one of his children said he felt safe.

Safe. That was exactly what Jason needed and wanted each night. To know he was safe. Hence why Bruce came every night when his bug picked up Jason's moaning. Hence why he was there now.

The boy's breathing steadied, his grip loosening on his father's shirt. Nearly asleep. He held his boy a few minutes longer, just to have the reassurance himself that he was alive and well. He remembered being terrified when Superman brought over his body. He remembered the anxiety of waiting through the hours of surgery. More than anything, he remembered the guilt burning inside him as he waited at the boy's bedside at the hospital. Now all he had was the fear and heartbreak for how his son behaved now, broken.

Knowing the anxiety wouldn't leave him by just sitting there, the head of the household laid his boy back down under the covers, tucking him in gently to not disturb him. Jason needed rest, everyone agreed on that. Every night Bruce was tempted to stay by his bedside, but others may need him as well. Damian didn't quite understand what was going on around him and would run to his bed whenever he had a nightmare still. And the others weren't without their traumas. He couldn't focus on only one child all the time. It was one of the downsides of having more than one child.

Very slowly he left the room, letting the boy rest as much as he could before either dawn or the next night terror. The terror caused by that one man. A terror they couldn't nab him for. Those little…

"Bruce." Dick's voice made the man snap around in an instant. He didn't know the teenager was up at this late hour. But he was, and staring serious as the grave when he called his name. "They just got news. Gordon has him cornered in Amusement Mile. Satellite feed says he has a boat waiting for him. Penguin's helping him."

The dark knight's jaw tensed. It was the break they were waiting for. Joker had surfaced again, going on a thieving spree of all things. Old toys, classic jokes, ridiculous items really. He changed up his MO for the moment. Avoiding anything that'd get him charged for murder. His latest version of his toxin put people into a paralyzed state rather than killed them off with a grin. There were a few stabbings but nothing life threatening. The man was aiming to go back to Arkham if he was caught.

Well let him go there. It didn't hinder his plans for the madman.

"I'll send Kent and Curry."

"Already told Flash to head over."

Bruce blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Flash's metabolism will burn out Joker's gas before it can do any damage," Dick explained. "Joker's probably anticipating Superman and Aquaman, hence the boat. You send Uncle Clark out all the time around here."

"He's the closest."

"Not this time. He's off in Argentina helping out with an earthquake." The teen took a step forward, trying to convince him. "Joker won't be anticipating Flash, believe me."

"And just when did you become a strategist?" Bruce didn't like being corrected by anyone, let alone someone who was already disobeying orders.

"Since you started us playing 'How Do You Take Down So and So?'." He leaned against one of the walls, glaring slightly. "Bruce, you haven't been focusing lately. You're letting your emotions take control of your actions and are making bad calls. You should focus on Jay and the rest for now. I'll help out the League."

The man glared at him, harder than he had in a long time. "Get to bed and let me do my work."

"No." Dick glared back at him, not the least bit intimidated. May have worked back when he was twelve, but at fifteen, he'd seen scarier and was almost immune to his glares. "You've hardly slept for the past two months. Let me take some of the load."

"Dick…"

"I've got your back remember?" He tried to make sure he sounded convincing. "I may not be a cape, but I can do what you do. Joker's not getting away because I asked Flash to handle it. His nephew is helping out and he's asked Speedy to help with the capture. The three of them will get him into Arkham where he belongs, under the best security available. He's not going to get away with this one. Iran isn't going to make him their ambassador again."

The very large man loomed over him, giving a glare unlike any others. "Get. To. Bed."

Dick clenched his jaw, glaring up at him for a moment before looking at his socks in defeat. His long time father figure swiftly moved past him to the study where the entrance to the cave and his workstation waited for him. The teen stayed still as a statue for a minute before looking back the way he just came.

He hadn't told Bruce that the three he called in had just caught Joker. He wanted the man to calm down a bit first. The dark knight was truly becoming like his other old name, vengeance. All he wanted was revenge for what happened to Jason. Something that could not come through the justice system.

Just a week after the attack, Joker was made the Iranian Ambassador to the UN, effectively giving him diplomatic immunity to all crimes he committed, both past and present. It wasn't until his attempt to kill everyone at a UN peace meeting happened that the psycho could be arrested. But by then it was too late. Joker now had a clean slate, according to the legal system. Until he slipped up, he was a free man.

He couldn't be charged for the murder of Sheila Haywood. He couldn't be convicted of beating Jason near to death. And all the other murder, theft, and assault charges he had in his rap sheet were wiped clean too. The Justice League had no choice but to let the man run free until the next time he struck.

And strike he did. All that past week. And now Flash, Kid Flash, and Speedy had taken down the madman. Come morning he'd be in Arkham.

Dick looked at his brother's room for a long moment, sorrowful. This wouldn't bring Jason peace. Dick had been beaten nearly to death's door by Two-Face around the same age, it took weeks to just leave the manor on his own again. Bruce had been overprotective then, and since Dick never liked being shielded like that, it knocked him out of his stupor rather quickly.

But the two of them weren't that much alike. Something more had happened to Jason, they all knew it. Something he wouldn't talk about. And until Jason was back to normal, or at least tried to be, Bruce would be on his rampage, obsessed with taking down those who hurt his son. Two-Face wasn't as lucky as Joker. He was in a body cast quite quickly after being tossed in prison, again. The system served them well then.

Slowly Dick slid into Jason's room and sat on the far side of the bed. He worried for his brother like everyone else, but more so he worried for Bruce. One in shock, the other on a rampage, things were falling apart around them and he was the one trying to hold them all together. Tim and Cass knew something was wrong and tried to help where they could. Alfred was holding his tongue about certain actions, watching on. Damian was two; it'd be a miracle if he understood anything more than 'Daddy's mad' and 'Jason's sad'. Even Selina was avoiding them now, and the League was worried as well. If Dick hadn't stepped up, Joker probably would have escaped.

He sighed a bit before laying down on the end of the bed. Bruce said to go to bed. Didn't say which one. And really, someone had to get him out of his funk. May as well be the rebellious teenager.

* * *

A/N: X3 Yep, Jason's kinda catatonic. Bruce is now on his rampage. Joker got a clean slate making it impossible now to get convicted for what he's done (fact in the comics, one reason he wasn't killed in them after that). And as I recall, Dick was trying to make Bruce see reason and calm down, then was thrown out of the manor during all of that. So... not a bad addation? I foresee Dick getting more involved with the crime fighting community as they get older.

And before people ask, yes, I was planning on another Selina story before this event so the Cat/Bat coupling could be more intertwined. Still haven't figured them all out yet, but she is there! somewhere... Also, we now see some of the teen titans being mentioned. They will have a piece in this world as well.

Tomorrow will have some just desserts, and a crucial point for a future arch of mega-whoa.


	21. DITF: Scared Clowns

Just an FYI, this takes place the next day from the previous chapter. Gets a little sappy towards the end, and then came the picturesque image I drew adn put on DA. Hope you like this! I know everyone's wanted to see something like this anyway. *evil laugh*

Dick-15 Jason-12

* * *

**Scared Clown**

He handed over the three hundreds to the guard on duty outside the room. The man took it without question and decided to take a walk after letting the patron in. For once he was glad corrupt people were everywhere around Gotham. It made revenge so much simpler. If the man knew who he was and what had recently transpired though, he may have let him in for sympathy's sake. Most parents in all classes were upset about recent events, and how that monster would not be tried for his crimes.

Now one of the most heinous men on the planet was trapped in a padded cell with one of the most dangerous ones, usually on the side of justice. But for the next few hours, he was merely there for vengeance.

"Well well well, if it isn't Brucie Baby! Long time no see!"

"Joker."

Bruce Wayne glared darkest rage into the man who had beaten his son Jason nearly into his grave. The boy coded twice on the operating table because of him. He was still in a state of shock despite making a full physical recovery after two months being in a wheelchair. The kid hadn't smiled since that particular morning when Bruce had left him to visit with his biological mother, the woman this man had assuredly killed.

And yet because of a temporary stand as a UN ambassador, he was granted full immunity and a clean slate. Neither of them would have justice.

"So how's the wifey? Kids doing okay? I hope little junior is doing well. He was so much fun the last time I saw him." Joker grinned up at him in his straight jacket. "Maybe the two of us can party again some time."

That was when the first kick landed in the clown's stomach. "Was it something I said?"

Wayne didn't say a word. He merely took off his jacket and started rolling up his sleeves. Alfred would kill him if he ruined yet another silk shirt.

* * *

Dick looked around the kitchen at breakfast curiously. Cass, Tim and Damian were all in their favorite spots, eating their allotments of cereal and turkey sausages. Jason was dragging his feet to the room not far behind him and Alfred was busying himself near the sink.

"Hey Alfie," the oldest child there started, "where's Bruce?"

There was a slight hesitation in the old man's movements before he answered. "I believe Master Bruce has gone out for a meeting of some sort. He managed to fix himself some toast and coffee without burning the house down before leaving."

Something wasn't right. "A meeting? Now?"

"Indeed sir."

The acrobat looked down in thought. It was Sunday morning. Early Sunday morning. Unless the meeting was with some ultra early bird church group, the likelihood of that was nil. No business he heard of opened this early on Sundays, and a majority of the places Bruce ran weren't even open on those days. Fishy.

Honestly, Dick was expecting to get a lecture for overstepping his bounds or disobeying him last night. He had sent Flash to take down Joker while the man was busy calming Jason down from another night terror. Flash had taken two of the 'Teen Titans', a barely coming together teen division of crime fighters and superheroes, with him and the three of them had put the nut job in Arkham long before the cock crowed that morning. Bruce was pretty mad last night about it, but the guy had been mad at nearly everyone and everything that got in the way of getting revenge for what happened to Jason.

He looked once to his near catatonic younger brother, concerned that he may be mentally damaged for good. Two months like that with panic attacks and screaming nightmares every other night was worrying everyone around him. Bruce seemed especially worried, and when worried or threatened, he became terrifying.

"Did he say where he was going?" The acrobat looked back over to the butler curiously, a thought running through his head. With the way Bruce was acting last night, it was clear he wanted one thing above all else. And with what else happened then, it was a higher possibility.

"No I'm afraid not Master Richard. Please," the butler insisted, "sit down and have some breakfast."

For a brief moment Dick debated doing just that. But his gut told him otherwise. He shrugged. "I think I ate too much last night. Not that hungry." He turned about and started leaving the room, just sliding past Jason as he entered quietly. "I've got some homework to finish. See ya at lunch."

"Master Richard-" Alfred started but Dick wouldn't stay for the rest. He already grabbed his favorite jacket and was running back upstairs, fiddling with his watch.

* * *

All Bruce saw was red. As each blow struck the bound man, his mind went blank. Working on pure adrenalin and animal instinct, he knew he was breaking bones and pinching nerves. This man would need severe medical attention by the time he was through.

That was if there was anything left of the man to be attended to.

* * *

"You could have just called."

"Would have taken too long." Dick rode on the back of Superman's cape, trying to hide the worry eating away at him as they neared their destination. "Bruce has a head start on me."

"Are you sure about this?" The man of steel wasn't very confident about the teen's choice of actions. He said Bruce was going to do something stupid; that he was going to see Joker and probably start a legal mess with him if they didn't stop him. Well, Dick was supposed to stop Bruce. Superman, or rather Clark Kent, was going to make sure the kid got to him in time. "Bruce isn't exactly at his best right now."

"I'm sure." There was a firm confidence in the boy's eyes that made the kryptonian smile. This kid was fearless. In the past three years he knew the teen, he'd inspired and rallied many of their spirits, especially within his family. He watched them go through hard times, especially then, and he managed to keep his other siblings together. Bruce, not so much, but at least the man listened to him. "Bruce won't hurt me, or any minor for that matter. He slugged you when you told him about Joker's new job back then."

"Oh yeah, I remember." They landed just inside Arkham security, just next to a hidden side entrance. A perfect place for the man of steel to change identities. He looked through the building best he could and cringed. "Can't see anything."

"Most buildings around here were built with lead materials. Sorry." Already the acrobat was working on the side lock. Clark shook his head at the idea. Each of the Wayne kids learned lock picking to help them escape kidnappers, and each of them used said skill for other, personal reasons. Within seconds he was in and both of them were scrambling down an ill lit hallway.

Dick could blend into the shadows every time a guard came by while Clark had to float just outside their vision. Very uncomfortable for the man. He wasn't used to sneaking around like that. Going right to the front desk and asking to see Bruce seemed much more logical in his mind, but Dick insisted they needed to keep this as low profile as possible. Avoid the guards and inmates at all cost.

"Why?" The reporter asked, curious beyond belief.

"Because I… think Bruce bribed them."

"What?"

"It's not that uncommon a practice Clark." They were nearing the higher security areas, the place he needed the man of steel to make a distraction so he could get to Bruce first. The guy was still reeling at the idea of Bruce bribing guards to get in there. Just what was he doing behind closed doors during this little visit to warrant bribing? "Gotham's pretty corrupt. And besides, you know Bruce blurs the line when it suits him.

"Now are you gonna help me stop him from making the worst mistake of his life or not?"

A dark pit grew in the man's chest. Bruce was a good friend, a trusted ally, and many things he wasn't. He never could predict the man's next move, but this boy had. And he was determined to stop it. Whatever it was. And he hoped the stray thought in his mind was wrong this time.

So he nodded. He was going to help.

* * *

Joker hit the wall hard, but not hard enough. The cells were padded. Why did it have to be padded? The maniac was still laughing. Laughing! "If I knew you were this much fun Brucie, I would have banged around one of those kiddos years ago! Hear you have a new one. How old is he again? Hurk!"

Bruce's hands were around his neck now, just ready to squeeze the lifeblood out of him. "You're not touching any of my children again! You hear me! Never again!"

Again the madman laughed gleefully, making him snarl like a feral animal before throwing the man across the room again. Mocking him, taunting him, threatening him. Joker was going down.

* * *

Dick barely managed to slip past the guards rushing towards Clark's distraction. He was now alone in the highest security part of the asylum. Where all the psychotic criminals went. Some rooms had Plexiglas windows revealing the lesser psychos. Most were completely secluded. The ones he could see as he darted in the dark corridor were easy to remember from files on the bat-computer.

Poison Ivy, Calendar Man, Mad Hatter, Riddler, Scarecrow, Maxie Zeus, Penny Plunderer, King Tut, Ventriloquist, Firefly, Killer Moth, Egghead. They weren't any one to worry over at the moment. It was the ones past them he was glad he didn't have to see.

Zsasz, Killer Croc, Kobra, Clayface, Great White, Mr. Freeze… Two-Face.

Despite knowing he only had a little time before either discovery or an irreversible act could be prevented, Dick stopped and stared at that man's door. He remembered back when he was eleven and this man had taken him prisoner. When he made him choose between Bruce's life and that of Judge Watkins. Made him pick their fates based off of a coin toss. How the man had manipulated him into thinking he could save both of them somehow.

Flashes of that night flew through his head. Watkins died by drowning instead of hanging. Bruce was still on the gallows, tied up. Two-Face had a bat.

He still had nightmares of that night. Probably would for the rest of his life. Didn't stop the ones of his parents' deaths either. Worst part was Bruce had to watch. He may have saved him in the end, but both of them were scarred by the event. If Dick hadn't needed immediate medical attention, he doubted Two-Face would have lived through that night. There was a brief fight between Bruce and the psycho when he taunted the billionaire in court, one ended because of then Captain Jim Gordon when he pulled him off of the nut.

But there was no Jim there to stop Bruce now. And another of his loved ones had been nearly killed by a madman. This second traumatizing event was so much like what happened before…

Dick turned away from the psycho's door and pressed on. The nightmares were bearable now. He could talk about it. He bounced back rather quickly in comparison. Once the casts were off, so was he. Not surprising since he managed to start laughing again within months of his parents' murders while it took years for Bruce to even smile in their memory.

But Jason was a different matter, a different person. Since both of them were hurt under similar circumstances, it was likely Bruce was having flashbacks to that night. Taking on Joker now was also taking on Two-Face for then. The line was blurred for him, and that made it dangerous.

He heard a loud thump against one of the doors. Dick's eyes narrowed as he came to it. Again he picked the lock with ease then flew it open. The sight before him was worse than he imagined. And he didn't have time to take it in.

Bruce was getting ready to punch Joker clear through his head.

"NO!"

Instantly Dick was on his arm, weighing it down as much as he could to stop him from hurting the man anymore. At first Bruce didn't see him and attempted to throw him off violently. No one was going to stop him. But when Dick didn't let go and kept talking he realized who was there, his blood started turning cold.

"BRUCE STOP IT! YOU'RE KILLING HIM!

"LET GO DICK!" Nothing was going to stop him. Nothing.

"NO!" The teen locked eyes with him, eyes burning with such raw emotions. Desperation, determination, fear, even confusion mixed into his gaze. "I'M NOT LETTING YOU KILL HIM!"

"DICK…"

"KILLING SOLVES NOTHING! FIXES NOTHING!" Dick kept his eyes on the man, narrowing with each word. "It doesn't bring back the dead! It doesn't reverse time! It only adds to the pile of bodies! This isn't going to bring Jason back! It'll only take you away from him! Away from us! You'll only be giving him what he wants!"

As each word reached the man's ears, he felt the truth in them. They stabbed at him like knives, tearing away at the animal fury he had just moments ago. This really wouldn't help Jason. It didn't even help him. The only one who'd win that day would be Joker. And that clown had enough victories as is.

But justice couldn't be served this time through the system. Joker's slate was wiped clean. Nothing was going to avenge Jason if he didn't so something about it. Nothing at all. This thought made him tense again but Dick's reasoning struck him harder now.

"Do we really mean so little to you?! That'd you throw everything away just to get revenge?!" Tears threatened to come out of the teen's eyes. "What will happen if you kill him?! Where will we be without you?! Where do we go…"

Dick couldn't contain himself anymore. For weeks this is what he worried over. If Bruce actually did get his hands on Joker… If he finally avenged Jason and his mother… What happened next? No one was above the law, no one. Bruce wouldn't be their father anymore. Not legally, or in spirit. They'd be separated. He knew where he and Jason would end up, maybe even Tim: the system. That wasn't a pleasant place to be, especially for kids like them. But Cassandra and Damian… Ra's would take them, change them. They'd either be executed for not following his plans or turned into assassins. Bruce would be in prison for murder.

Gripping on to the man's arm for dear life, the teen shook and buried his head into the collar of Bruce's shirt. He couldn't lose another parent. He couldn't take losing his family all over again. Bruce couldn't become a murderer. He couldn't betray everything he stood for in their lives. And yet here he was, straddling the large chasm separating him from being a hero and being a villain.

As the boy's tears started to soak the vigilante's shirt, he silently mulled over his choices. He hadn't thought that far ahead. Not this time. Dick had. And he was scared. That was one thing he never wanted to happen.

He looked at Joker, still laughing to himself for some reason and already beaten black and blue. Red came out of many places on his body. He'd done quite a number on the man, dishing out enough to make it impossible for the clown to do anything but lay there and laugh like the maniac he was. Jason had gotten worse, far worse.

The boy continued to tremble on his arm.

Slowly Bruce wrapped his arms around his son, slumping over slightly as he let the fight leave him. A bloodied hand rested on his eldest's head, trying to comfort him in some way, but the sight of it brought shame into his heart. His hands were covered in blood. If he continued, they'd be stained by it. He'd have no right to hold his children again.

"No Dick. You mean the world to me." His voice was soft, barely over a murmur. Dick looked up to the war torn face above him and knew he got through this time. Bruce was coming back.

He leaned against his shoulder now, letting the anxiety leave him. They stayed still like that for a minute, eventually ending when Bruce started to teeter. The exhaustion from all the adrenalin and stress that built up over the past months had finally gotten to him. Satisfied for the moment, they both opened their eyes. "Come on. Let's go home."

They stood from where they were and, still holding onto on another for support, made their way to the door. "Aww…. Going already?" Joker taunted. "But we haven't even gotten to the good part yet! Oof!"

Dick smirked to himself after kicking the creep's shoulder. He wasn't an angel either, but was satisfied with just that.

* * *

"Hey Alfred," Dick started, propping himself over the counter, "what cha got for lunch?"

The butler of the household raised an eyebrow at the teenager. It was barely eleven, the minimal timeframe to start asking for their next meal. Considering he had skipped breakfast, it wasn't too surprising that he was asking now. "Toasted BLT sandwiches with Monterey Jack, Dijon, and rye bread."

"Sweet. Can I get Bruce and Jason's too?" He grinned at the old man for a moment. "They're in the study and I don't want to disturb them with the lunch bell."

"Very well sir." Alfred smiled to himself as he prepared the three lads' meals. He placed each plate on a large tray and added a few water bottles as well. He had a relative idea what had transpired before the two arrived home an hour ago. He knew Dick had lied and snuck out earlier, despite him having come down the stairs like normal. He knew Bruce had been in a fight and had cleaned himself off in the guesthouse. And he knew the two of them were not about to talk about it any time soon.

He didn't mind any of it though, because both of them were much calmer now than when they left that morning. Much much calmer. They hadn't been calm since what happened to Jason. Things were still not right in the Wayne household, but at least things were getting better again. At least for Bruce and Dick.

"Be careful with this," the butler warned as he handed the tray over to the expecting teenager.

Dick laughed. "Don't worry. Not going up any stairs."

Carefully he took his loaded tray to the study and nudged the door open. He smiled as he spotted the two right where he saw them last. Bruce was holding Jason on his lap on the window seat, just staring out the window. It was one of the warmest places in the whole manor and had the best view. Everyone at one time or another found comfort just sitting there and looking outwards.

Bruce rested his chin on Jason's head, silently reassuring the boy he was safe. Jason didn't seem to respond, but he wasn't panicking or flinching away. He just seemed lost in his own thoughts. It was almost picturesque if the heavy atmosphere wasn't still around the boy.

Dick gave the two an awkward smile before setting the tray on the desk. He took his own sandwich and water before taking off to give them privacy and return to his other brotherly duties. Someone had to keep his younger siblings in line, and certain little boys needed some attention too.

* * *

A/N: Awwweee... Dick's such a good boy. Now for the most part, what happens at Arkham stays in Arkham, so this little event is kept secret for quite some time. Bruce would have beaten Joker to death (like Flashpoint Thomas/batman did Joe Chill) if Dick hadn't intervened. Why did he stop him? for exactly those reasons I stated above. This event will be brought up in another arch and because of it will save someone else's life.

Did anyone else catch the similarity between the Dick/Two-face incident and Jason/Joker beating? I thought of it while writing this arch and it kinda would explain why Bruce would want to actually kill Joker so much, even more than anyone else because it's a revisiting trauma. They still don't know about Sheila selling Jason out, probably won't know for a very long time, so they don't know the full extent of what happened. No i'm not going to write the Two-Face beating up at all. ANY EVENT PRIOR TO 'A FATHER'S REQUEST' WILL BE REFERRED TO BUT NOT WRITTEN. =]

Dunno what happened to Clark after the two of them separated in Arkham. =P The last part of this arch will commence tomorrow. TTFN!


	22. LPFD: Snapped in Place

Wow, you'd think with how important 'Death in the Family' was to the Batman world I'd get more comments. *shrug* well this is the last follow up. Just to tell you, I am _not_ a psych major so don't quote me. And though technically this is all part of the same arch, it's subtitle is LPFD. Enjoy.

Jason-12 Tim-8

* * *

**Snapped In Place**

It was a high class party, a charity function like many others. Or it should have been. Most of the time when the adults talked the kids would run around and find ways to entertain themselves. The night usually ended with someone covered in something sticky and another with new rips in their clothes. Someone would have a new bruise and someone had cried. Usually the youngest would be falling asleep on his feet and have to be carried to the car. As time past and they grew, they only found new ways of entertainment and had an easier time telling the stories about their adventures.

Usually. The norm hadn't happened in about three months.

Despite earlier reservations, Bruce thought it was best to bring Jason along. The boy hadn't changed. He was still silent, still listless, trapped in his never ending thoughts and trauma. While in the manor, he'd just pick a spot and sit silently. Sometimes he let people near him, other times he didn't. Bruce was the only one he always let near, the only one allowed to hold him most of the time. Alfred and Dick were close seconds but occasionally the kid had a panic attack. His younger siblings gave him distance, all but Damian knowing something was wrong. The two year old only kept his distance after Jason had one of those attacks. He wasn't well, not well at all.

It was getting to the point that Bruce was thinking of taking Jason to an Arkham psychiatrist for a full evaluation. He held off doing so merely because he hated them himself. Growing up everyone tried to take him to them and they didn't make anything better. He didn't have to take Dick to one after his time with Two-Face. He bounced back on his own within a few weeks. The man prayed Jason would do the same.

But three months since that dreadful day and he hadn't even tried to smile. His white lock of hair only became more noticeable by the day. Leslie said it was due to stress and trauma, a souvenir of that event. The boy had enough of them already. Did his body have to betray him as well?

The CEO tried to push those thoughts aside as he led both Jason and Damian through the crowds so he could do his necessary rounds. Dick was off flirting with the few girls his age there while Tim and Cass were off exploring the building and the party's dessert trays. Little Damian was already rubbing his eyes, ready to go home and get to bed after only an hour of activity. Jason though stood silently at his side, behaving perfectly without a hint of humor or boredom on his face.

"I have to say," Mr. Burnham stated, grinning to himself as he looked at Jason next to him, "that little trouble maker of yours sure has changed for the better."

"Excuse me?" A slight edge came to Wayne's voice. But the drunk speaker didn't pick it up.

"He's much better behaved I must say. I remember when he poured punch all across the floor and watched as people slipped. Then there was the year he organized a staircase race. Oh, and then there were those tag games." Burnham chuckled to himself. "If we knew a good sound beating was all he needed to behave, we would have—"

"If you'll excuse me," he cut the jerk off, his eyes narrowing dangerously, "I have to finish my rounds." Quickly Bruce picked up his youngest so he could rest against his shoulder and guided the slightly trembling preteen to their next destination. "Obnoxious prick. Hope Denton buys him out of Gotham."

He looked down to Jason as the boy looked up to him for reassurance. His father gave him a soft smile. "Don't worry about what he said. He's had three wives and sent his two sons to boarding schools. He has no idea what he's talking about."

Jason stared after him for a minute before looking down again, nodding. His actions saddened him, taking away the smile he had put on. In the past, Jay would have laughed at the insult and joined in. He also would have defended himself. The kid didn't mince words.

Bruce missed the old Jason.

Two conversations later, he noticed the boy teetering on his feet. Cassandra and Timothy had ran through the middle of the circle he was in and nearly toppled him on accident while zooming past. The two were squirting each other with boxed drinks they found somewhere. Though their dad gave them a quick glare, he was more worried about the two sleepy ones he was currently handling. Maybe it was time to call it quits for the night.

Quietly he took Jason to the side of the room and sat him down. "Tired?" Silently the boy nodded. His eyes were still unfocused. "Want to go home?" He nodded again. Bruce sighed heavily. He readjusted his grip on Damian practically asleep on his shoulder. "Alright. I need you to stay here with Damian so I can round up the others."

"What?" Some fear entered the boy's face, jerking around to see his father's in a quick panic.

"Just for a few minutes," he tried to reassure him. "It'll go faster if you and Dami are here."

"No…" the preteen whispered. He grabbed the man's sleeve desperately. He didn't want to be separated from him.

"I'll come right back for the two of you," Bruce said evenly, hoping to calm the boy. Jason shook his head fearfully, saddening his father. He sighed before giving in. "You want to come with me?" He nodded. "Alright. But stay close. I don't want to lose you in that crowd."

Like the past three months, Jason said nothing. He just nodded and stood back up to move along with his father. It was another few minutes before he let go of the man's sleeve.

They didn't even make it any more than twenty feet before someone stopped them to talk. "Brucie darling!" One of Bruce's many ex-girlfriends. "I was hoping to run into you!"

"Marie! What a pleasant surprise." The unfortunate thing about being the 'crown prince of Gotham' was having to be polite and cordial to nearly every member of the elite class. Which meant participating in small talk even when all he wanted to do was brush off the woman without a second thought. So as per social requirements, Bruce started the usual subjects with the lady, all while trying to give her the impression that he was in a rush.

"Brucie you really need to come by and talk to Daddy. He's been dying to meet you."

"I'll try to put it on my calendar, but at the moment I'm a bit swamped with work. You know how it goes." From the corner of his eye he spotted two of his children, still running around trying to squirt each other with those juice boxes. Where did they find them?

"Oh I do. Daddy tells me you're expanding into the space program. More than just satellites. Are you thinking of going to the moon in the near future?"

"Well, you know how it is. There's always money in land and there's plenty of that there."

"And why would you want any on such a lonely, barren wasteland?" Marie came closer to him, giving him bedroom eyes. The girl was an amateur. "I hear your mansion is lonely enough as is without a woman's touch."

"I wouldn't say that necessarily." He shrugged a shoulder, indicating the sleepy Damian nearly out cold on him. "It can be quite rowdy. This one's all tuckered out and I really should be putting him and the others to bed."

"Oh I understand," she tried again. "But wouldn't you like some help with that? I can be quite… good… you know. With children and the like."

"Well— Timothy!"

Nearly out of no where Tim popped up next to them and squirted Jason in the face with his juice box. The preteen just stared at him in surprise, blinking as the sticky substance ran down his face. His eight year old brother just grinned impishly before running off into the crowd. Cassandra was covering her mouth, grinning too, before also disappearing into the crowd.

"Jason, are you alright?" Bruce placed a hand on his still shocked son. Jason didn't make any move to wipe his face, or had any expression except surprise. He just blinked, staring off to where his little brother had run off to. Worry played on the man's features while confusion came from the people around them. "Jason?"

He finally responded to his name, looking up at his dad for a moment before something changed on his face. A familiar spark kindled in his eye. He took out a handkerchief (Alfred insisted everyone carry one at these parties) and wiped his face off.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go kill my little brother. Timmy!"

And just like that, the kid was off running through the crowd to clobber his assailant. Bruce stared after him in shock, trying to keep an eye on his children's heads but at the same time amazed at what had just occurred.

In an instant, just one instant, it looked like Jason was back to being his old self.

Relieved laughter nearly escaped the man as he looked on and watched his second child running in between people to get at the one who splashed his face. He knocked into Dick (who was still flirting) and took his drink from his hands to splash the liquid towards his target. Jerked out of his little world, Dick watched the two in surprise for a minute or two before breaking into a broad grin and laughing himself. Tim was sliding under the food table to escape punishment by this time but was still being chased by what was once a near catatonic Jason Todd mere minutes ago.

Best of all, his own impish grin was growing across his face with each passing second.

"Ah hell," one of the guests cursed nearby. "Those brats are acting up again."

"Thought the kid calmed down."

"Knew it was too good to last."

"Aren't you going to stop them?" Marie asked, just as irked as the other guests by the kids' chase.

"No," Bruce stated flatly, a very pleased smile on his face. "Not yet."

"COME BACK HERE YOU LITTLE TURD!"

"SAY PRETTY PLEASE!"

* * *

The event ended like the norm. Dick had tears streaming down his face from laughing so hard that night, and Cass had accidentally taken out the hem of her dress. Tim had a new bruise on his shoulder from a punch and Jason was still sticky from the drink the kid had squirted on him. And of course, Damian was asleep before they even reached the car. Now all back at the manor, getting dressed for bed, each were too tired to do much of anything.

Well anything but give Jason quick hugs for his much anticipated return.

The boy was getting annoyed by the sudden splurge of affection and was glad to be alone in his room to change into his pajamas once more. He dug out his Batman ones he had Alfred make for him earlier that year and had changed bottoms before there was a knock at the door. He raised an inquiring eyebrow before tossing his now ruined silk shirt (courtesy Tim, he was going to tell Alfred about this one) and answering the door. He blinked twice when he saw who was there. "Dad!"

"Mind if I come in?" Jason nodded and stepped aside, letting the large man in without any apprehensions. A smile graced his face, earning a curious look from his son. "How are you feeling?"

Jay blinked a few times before looking away. He hurried to get his pajama shirt on now. "Better, I guess. I'm not sure."

"You sound better." Bruce sat on the edge of the bed, just watching his boy move around the room anxiously.

"Yeah, I know." He wasn't really looking at anything specific in the room, but it was like his mind couldn't focus on one thing in there. "I… I feel like… I've been asleep this whole time and just now… woke up. I don't know how to explain it."

His eyes locked onto Bruce's, baffled, but focusing. He was looking for answers and now could understand them. The boy wringed his hands nervously as he tried to put what had happened into words. "Like… everything was in a fog and then… suddenly it was all clear. Like everything just happened around me and I wasn't really there. Then suddenly I was. I… I really… I can't figure out why, or how."

"Tim squirted you in the face."

"Heh, yeah." He smirked, looking away as he remembered it. "It…I dunno. It just felt real. Like… I dunno… like how Damian screams bloody murder when someone suddenly drops a ton of books next to him. Everything around me, it just didn't feel real for the longest time. Like everything was just some hallucination I was having while being…"

His voice trailed off as he remembered that incident again. For a brief moment he felt like he was there again, trapped in a warehouse with Joker, being beaten over and over again with a crowbar, in front of his mother who sold out on him. "I had a few of them back then. Trying to escape it I think. But nothing felt real unless he was…"

Bruce was about to stand and help him calm down when Jason took a deep breath and handled it himself. "I guess I just needed someone to treat me normal or something. Someone who wasn't out to… to hurt me. Maybe I just needed to be attacked somehow, reminded that not everything that touched me was dangerous. I'm not sure. I really don't know."

He took another deep breath before looking back to his father, smiling slightly. "Guess I'll have to thank Timmy later. He woke me up."

The man smiled graciously in silence, soaking in the young man's return to confidence. "Maybe." He looked over his son for a minute or so as he shifted nervously where he stood. "Do you want to talk about it?"

To this Jason froze. After another minute or so he shook his head. "N…no. Not yet."

"Alright." Bruce pushed himself off the bed and placed a hand on his boy's shoulder, giving him a confident, warm smile. "When you're ready, I'm here. We're all here for you."

The boy smiled again, answering softly. "I know."

The man's smile grew some before letting his boy go and heading towards the door. He would have given him a hug, but he saw the annoyance in his eyes when Dick attacked him with affection earlier that night. One step at a time. "Better get some rest. You still have some physical therapy in the morning."

As he turned the door handle Jason spoke up, slightly desperate. "Can I sleep with you tonight?"

Bruce blinked, then looked over to his boy in mild surprise. Some fear played with his features but not the same terror he experienced for the past three months. It had been a long time since Jason made that request. Three years? Possibly longer. It didn't matter. Occasionally Dick still snuck in. So he smiled and nodded once.

Relief and joy entered the boy's face. It was almost a shame to disturb it. "Bringing Bat-Bear?"

"Pft, no." Jason darted to the man's side as he left the room. "I don't need a ridiculous stuffed animal to keep me company at night. I'm not a kid and I'm not Dick."

"Hm. Interesting requirements," Bruce commented, then gave an impish smirk. "Too old for a teddy, but not too old to sleep with your old man." The kid stuck his tongue out at him earning a laugh. After a moment, the kid too started to laugh as well. And it was so good to hear it again.

* * *

A/N: Awee... alls well that ends well. Like I said before, I'm not a psychiatrist. or a psychologist. I have no idea if that really works for trauma victims. Just thinking that there's a snapping point, some kind of trigger that people in certain states need before they can start moving forward again. There's gonna be at least two more instances like that where someone will just snap out of their not so good mental state in the future because of what someone did, what was said, who appeared, or what they themselves did. It's great for dramatic effect so I'm using this method. Does it work in reality, can't say for certain. After all, in another fic I had at least two non-conventional ways of disarming a bomb that may just blow you up instead.

As for why Tim was the one who woke Jason up, I thought he deserved a role since he was key in getting Batman out of his dark place after Jason died in the comics. Plus little brothers do things like that to annoy people, don't they? Mine's a little off the beaten track. And I just wanted Jason to politely tell people he was going to kill his little brother. Best line here.

Dick's getting away with flirting because Bruce is distracted with Jason. And anyone who knows parties that aren't meant for kids knows this is what happens typically at those things. Can't say how many times we had to drag our parents out of those things and ended up like that, and how often I've watched kids at them and saw what trouble they got into.

Well, that ends this arch. Next one's still in the works and won't start being posted until it's entirely done (and it's a long one). Plus I've nearly used up all my stocked piled shorts so don't expect too many daily updates. I'll do what I can though. ;] laters.


	23. The Question

And now we go back to pre-dami again. What's the worst thing a teenager has to go through? -the talk. What's the worst thing a parent has to go through? =D

Dick-14 Jason-11 Tim-7

* * *

**The Question**

"Daddy," Timmy started, tugging on his father's sleeve, "where do babies come from?"

Automatically Bruce froze, not knowing how to answer this one. He slowly looked over to his youngest, wondering how the idea even stirred inside him. Timmy was seven! "Um…why do you ask?"

The kid shrugged. "Ms. Harris said she was going to have a baby. So where do they come from?"

He thought about the boy's teacher, wishing she had kept her mouth shut. He was not ready to give 'the talk' to him. To anyone actually. Now that he thought about it, he hadn't talked to Dick about puberty or anything, Jason either. He had no idea how he was going to handle talking about it to Cassandra. And one of them was in high school. '_Crap. I'm really messing this one up._'

"Um… Where do _you_ think they come from?" Bruce could avoid 'the talk' with this one for at least a few more years. Let the kid come up with his own answer.

"Well…" Timmy shrugged, remembering something. "Dick said babies come from hospitals, clinics and medical tents. Jason said they came from Wal-Mart."

"What?" Okay, that was a new one. "Wal-Mart?"

"Well he said he came from Wal-Mart, off of the clearance shelves. That Dick came from a Kmart blue light special, and Cassandra was a special order from Japan." He scrunched up his brow as he continued. "He said I came from one of those really ex…penseve… Europeen outlet specialty store. Did I really come from a store?"

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose, both holding back a laugh at the outrageous story Jason came up with and praying a headache wouldn't come from talking his way around this. "Did you ask Alfred?"

"Uh huh. He said to ask you."

Figures. Alfred always liked to put him in an awkward spot with his kids. Must have been payback for all those years he gave the man trouble as a child. "I see. No Timmy. You didn't come from a store. Dick was right. You came from a hospital."

"Where do hospitals get babies?" The innocence of the question wasn't hindered by the fact that Timothy had skipped two grades recently.

His father took a deep breath before coming to a conclusion. "It's really technical and complicated. It involves a lot of kissing—"

"EEEWWWW!" The almost natural little boy response to anything romantic kicked in, making this easier.

"So it's best I don't explain everything until you're older. Say… thirteen at the earliest?" Timmy nodded vigorously, now not wanting to know. That was fine by him. "Alright. We'll resume this talk in six years."

"Okay." The boy gave his father a quick hug and ran off to distract himself with something else. Bruce on the other hand decided to track down his two other boys to see if he had to give out 'the talk' at long last. Eleven and fourteen. How time flew.

Both were in the game room, trying to beat each other at Wii bowling. He leaned against the doorframe, making sure Cass and Timmy weren't there to overhear what he had to say. "Where do babies come from again?"

The two jerked around at their dad's voice, blinking in surprise. "Uhhh… The hospital?" "Wal-Mart?"

He raised an eyebrow at them. Years being with them and being a detective, Bruce knew when they were lying. "Let's try that again. Where do babies come from?"

"Please don't give us the talk," Dick pleaded, his eyes begging doggie style. He really didn't want it. "Sex-ed classes were enough."

"Uh huh…" He looked over to Jason. "Aaaaannnd you learned how they were made… how?"

Jason gave a sheepish grin, looking away guiltily. "Well… there were these ladies back when I was a kid I used to talk to… and then I saw something on TV… and they did this whole puberty thing in my class, separating the boys from the girls… I just pieced it all together."

"Hm." The man considered their sources for a moment before coming out with his other question. "And where did the 'hospital' and 'Wal-Mart' answers come from?"

They shrugged, talking at the same time. "That's what my dad told me." "My mom said 'we found you at Wal-Mart'."

"Hm. Clever. Beats cabbage patches." This gained a slight relieved snicker from the boys. Bruce stood up straight again, about to leave them to their fun. "Just a few rules that Alfred gave me until I was an adult: not under this roof, and you're not allowed to sleep over at a girl's place. Preferably not at all until after marriage, but who am I to talk."

They all looked elsewhere as a few awkward laughs escaped their lips. Their father smirked before looking straight back into their eyes. "Don't explain it to Timmy or Cassandra either, at least not until they're in their teenage years. If anyone asks, we had 'the talk'."

"That talk's gonna be really interesting when it's Cass' turn," Jason pointed out, grinning slightly.

"That's my problem," Bruce reminded them. "And I have a few years to figure that one out."

"Hopefully she'll figure it out on her own too," Dick murmured, unpausing the game. And privately, all of them agreed.

* * *

A/N: *diez laughing* okay, I never had 'the talk'. the closest i got to one was those puberty and sex-ed courses at school during PE. Everything else I kinda pieced together from TV and comics. Church and my parents just said 'not until after marriage' and all those wonderful classes I had thrown at me as a kid/teen with all the STDs they brought up were enough discouragement for me. End of story.

As for the whole question, I learned in a few classes that sometimes kids ask it because of something completely innocent and they don't want 'The Talk', so always ask them why first. Those answers though... who's read Calvin and Hobbs? Calvin's dad said he was a blue light special. My parents used to joke that they got my sister from Albertsons. Another parent said they got their kids from Wal-Mart. Others say hospital. I still don't know where they got the cabbage patch story, but that's kinda a nod to Batman and Sons by The-BlackCat on Deviantart where Tim also asks where they came from and is always told it was a cabbage patch. Fun answers. Dunno which one I'll be feeding my kids until they put two and two together.

Well, on to the next short, okiday? ;]


	24. Dollies

Heh, another idea I had at work. Sometimes people get so caught up in doing an example they forget what it was all for. Plus wanted something started because of Cass. This is pre-DITF

Dick-15 Jason-12 Cass-10 Tim-8 Damian-2

* * *

**Dollies**

"Hey Cass! Check this out!" Dick came into the parlor where his one sister liked to read in peace, carrying a cardboard box and a grin. The girl raised an eyebrow at him over her copy of Artemis Fowl as he set the box on the ground between them. "Babs was going through her old toys and found these. She asked if you'd want them."

"What are they?" Cassandra sat up then leaned over the box to get a better look. Then blinked? "Dolls?"

"Barbies!" Her brother grinned as he lifted a Ken and Skipper doll onto either side of his face. "Girls play with them."

"Why?" She couldn't understand it. They were just plastic figurines with fake smiles and impossibly idealistic bodies in cheap imitations of current fashions.

"Because it's fun! Look." He took out a third figure, a Courtney doll. "We can pretend they're all going to school, or running a cookie shop, or saving the world! 'Oh Bobby! You have to help me! I broke my daddy's car!' 'Don't worry Suezy! I'll save you!' 'But you promised me you'd take me to the movies today Bobby!' 'I'm sorry Trisha. Maybe tomorrow?' 'You player! Hiya!'"

He made one of the girls kick Ken's groin, making the real girl raise an eyebrow again. Dick grinned up at her. "See? It's easy! And it's fun."

"Looks stupid," Cass stated flatly, still not seeing what was so interesting about these things.

"That's because circus boy can't come up with any kind of story outside of soap operas." Jason was grinning in the doorway, laughing inside at the idiocy before him. "That was a bad kick."

"You think you could do better?"

"Could, but why would I want to?" It really was a good question. "Dolls are for girls."

"And Cass is a girl." Dick waved the toys around, motioning to her. "This is something normal girls do. I'm teaching her how to play with them."

"Wonderful job." The rebel stepped up and took a Rapunzel doll, her hair taken out from its rubber bands and therefore a mess. "But first things first. Not everyone likes hearing about who's dating who. There were these girls in my building who used to play all the time and they were always making them superheroes. Like this one. 'I fight for LOVE! I fight for JUSTICE too! And in the name of the Moon, I will right wrongs and triumph over evil! And that means you!'"

"Is that supposed to be impressive?" The teenager glared at him for a moment. "Some cheap imitation of an old cartoon series?"

"Yeah. Watch her spin around pointlessly for five minutes." Jason hung onto the doll's hair and started twisting her around so it would spin around like a top after release.

"Come on! My idea was much better!"

"Hey, doesn't that one kinda look like Uncle Clark?" He pointed at another Ken doll in the box, this one having a spit curl.

"It does!" Dick pulled it out then found another one. "Hey! This one has purple eyes! Kinda looks like Lois."

"I bet if we shaved off that guy's head and put him in a white suit we'd have the perfect Luthor." Jason set aside the fake moon princess and took out one of the few Ken dolls with hair.

"We can't just shave Bab's old dolls' hair."

"How about dye it red?" He gave an impish grin. "I heard Lexie used to be a redhead."

"That one has red hair." Cass pointed to another Ken, one with plastic hair that had seen so much sun the brown had turned redish.

"Okay, then that's Lex." Dick took all three dolls and put them on the coffee table. He spotted another after a minute. "Hey! That looks a lot like Aunt Diana!"

"That one looks like Hal!"

"And that's Barry!"

"Or King Arthur. Look at that orange shirt."

"Blond hair and goatee, that has to be Ollie."

"Dang there's a lot of girls here. We need more girls in the League."

"That one could be Dinah."

"Half of them could be Dinah. Why are there so many blonds?"

"Easier to mass produce? Wish they had more redheads."

"Oh look! A black guy! That can be John."

"Or J'onn. When he's playing human."

"Can I play?" Tim popped his head in as they were deciding who was who in the crime fighting community.

"We're not playing," Dick stated quickly, giving him a grin. "We're showing Cass how to play with them so she can try it."

"It's a girl thing apparently." Jason waved him in and immediately he took out a Whitney doll, tossing it to him. "Who do you think this is?"

"A young demon princess." Both his brothers roared in laughter while their sister rolled her eyes. They really had a strong imaginative streak. "Can I have Black Canary instead?"

"Pick a blond." Tim quickly picked one wearing a jacket and made it some up to 'Ollie's' ear. "'Wanna hear a secret?' AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"

"Oooo…. That's what he gets for playing the field!"

"'Don't worry Lois! I'll save you!' 'Bwahahahahahaha! No one can save you now!'" Dick was having fun with the crew from Metropolis.

"LAME!" Jason took the Wonder Woman and Barry/King Arthur dolls and set them around the forgotten non-named ones Dick took out earlier. "'We're being invaded! Quick! You take the left, I'll take the right.' 'Got it highness!'" He zoomed the blond through the 'invaders' while making sound effects. "'Got cha now!' 'Thank Hera! Wait, what about my Island?!' 'Don't worry about them princess. Amazons are really strong.' 'NO! We must save my people!' 'Can I get a few burgers first?'"

"'I think he's dead.'" Tim was having 'Ollie' on the ground with 'Dinah' hiding behind a stack of books. 'John/J'onn' was kneeling over the other man as if he were inspecting the body after a murder. "'Looks like an aneurism caused by high frequency vibrations.'"

"Dude," Jason looked over to the kid incredulously, "Aneurism? High frequency vibrations? Can't you ever make them die by stabbing or something?"

"Do you two have to make people die at all?" Dick sometimes worried about these two. Whenever they were bored on long trips or while waiting for some meeting to be over, they'd either come up with pranks or play mind games. Some involved taking down metas or security systems in their heads (their dad taught them this game at the dinner table) and others involved making crazy stories.

Popcorn stories were fun, but while Dick would make it go along and make it entertaining, both Jason and Timmy would make them turn for the worst. Tim did murder mysteries while Jason would make it a violent action tale. Cass would want to end it quickly and they all ended with 'and they all died, the end' when it was her turn. She really wasn't much for making stories, she preferred to just listen. Most of the time.

"You could just have them go to Bermuda."

"The Justice League doesn't go to Bermuda unless there's some kind of crisis," Jason reminded him.

"So…" Tim looked over all the dolls for a moment. "What kind of crisis should we have? Alien invasion?"

"No, Luthor has to be behind it all." The teenager looked up in thought. "Oh I got it! Some kind of biochemical warfare is being developed there and he kidnapped Lois Lane when she got too close."

"Does she always have to be the victim?" Jason demanded. "Cause seriously, it's getting redundant."

"There's Iris West-Allen too," Tim offered. "Or we could make Mr. Queen being held for ransom."

"Maybe Arrow got in too deep while investigating a case and tripped over a major Luthor plot," Dick proposed, "one where he uses Hal's power ring for something."

"And then he brainwashed half the League!"

"'RWAR! I'M EVIL!' 'Oh no! Not you too J'onn!'"

"'I'll get him back to normal with my Canary cry!'"

"'Up up and away!'"

"'Somebody! Catch Flash!' 'I can't let you stop me Kal. I have to save the world.' 'The world is safe. You're the danger here. Luthor will make everything better.'"

"Oh will he now?"

All three boys jerked around at Bruce's voice, blinking in surprise. He wasn't supposed to be back for at least another two hours. How long had he been standing there? There was a slight smirk on his face. Damian was toddling in, carrying his favorite toy with him the entire way. "And just how is he going to do that?"

"Dad!" "Bruce!" "Daddy?!" The surprise on the boys' faces was hard not to outright laugh at. Quickly Dick took the initiative. "Uuhhmmm…. We haven't figured that part out yet."

"Just what are you doing?" Bruce tried his hardest to not laugh.

"We're teaching Cassandra how to play with dolls," Jason stated quickly, remembering what Dick told him earlier.

"Uh huh. And just where is Cassandra?"

All three boys looked around for their sister before realizing she was gone. Most days she was rather interested in what they came up with. But she was in the middle of a good book when Dick appeared, and she still couldn't see the attraction of having Barbies. She left about a minute after Tim came in.

"Uuuhhhmmm…."

Now Bruce snickered as their faces turned red. They were so absorbed in their playing that they didn't realize she wasn't there anymore. "Do me a favor. Tell me before you try teaching her how to play 'dress up' or how to put on makeup. I want front row seats."

"HEY!" "Bruce!" Their objections were drowned out by the man's laughing as he walked away. But as Damian came to the coffee table and swung his Bat-Kitty into all the dolls, knocking them clear over, their objections became louder. "HEY! DAMIAN! WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!"

* * *

A/N: hehe Yeah I used to play with barbies. We made superhero stories that way. My older sisters imitated soap operas. I looked up a few model's names to make sure I got this right. Oh, King Arthur was Aquaman, before anyone asks.

Yes I watched sailor moon. It was my gateway drug to anime, manga, and comics in general. I was 8, and I still like Tux. They're doing a reboot of the anime, id you know? and I also read Artemis fowl. Have since it first came out. I happen to know Alfred also reads it. haven't read the last book yet but I'll get there, eventually.

just curious, does anyone know what time of the day is best for posting? Cause i posted this one story last weekend and usually i can get 10 review per-chapter on it no problem. I got 4. =/ timing? oh well. TTFN!


	25. Driving Lesson

Okay, haven't posted for a while and this has nothing to do with most of the rest of the series, but it was fun. Enjoy. I'll get back to regular continuity later. =P

Dick-15/16

* * *

**Driving Lesson**

"Bruce, can I get a car?"

The man in question looked away from the bat-computer screens, raising an eyebrow at Dick as he did his usual routine up and down the dinosaur in the cave. Thankfully he wasn't doing his dangerous acrobatic tricks in front of the others, nor on one of his old batmobiles. But the question still put him on edge.

"You don't have a license yet," he reminded the teen evenly.

"I'm fifteen years, eight months today," the aerialist reminded him, grinning from ear to ear as he balanced himself with one hand on the tip of the t-rex's nose. "Bare minimum age for getting a permit. So can we go get it?"

"I'm in the middle of a case," Bruce tried to convince him, not sure if he should even be having this conversation.

"No you're not." The acrobat pushed himself off the dino, performed a series of flips in the air, and landed safely on the ground about twenty feet away from him, completely at ease as if doing such stunts were a regular thing for him. And in truth, they were. "You're looking up plans on making that 'moon base' for the League. Shouldn't you be more worried about how they'll get to and from Earth over how to take care of waste products up there?"

"No stone unturned," the Bat reminded him. He looked back to the screens. "Besides, Strange and Palmer are working out those details with Kord. If I don't make certain the smaller stuff isn't taken care of, it won't be done at all."

"Like teaching me how to drive?" The teen grinned at him impishly. He wasn't easily detoured when his mind was set. "I already memorized the driving manual for the test. Just need to learn how and I can get my license."

"You only qualify for a learning permit," Bruce reminded him.

"I'll be able to give rides to school," Dick persisted, trying to spin it his way. "Then you and Alfred can go to work together like in the old days. It'll save a lot of time and trouble."

"You can _only_ get a permit right now." He gave the young man a sharp glare. Kid was jumping the gun there.

"But in four months I can get my license." The teen grinned impishly. "All I need is a teacher."

The CEO stopped what he was doing and looked at his son as if he was crazy. "_You_, want _me_, to teach _you_, how to drive?"

"Hey you learned from European race car drivers didn't you?" The acrobat grinned impishly. "I'd say you're a really good driver, don't you?"

"I learned how so I could chase after criminals at seventy miles per hour."

"Exactly." His grin was only growing. "You drive both fast and safe. Best skills to have out there."

A slight glare returned to the man's face. "You are not driving anything over forty mph, got it?"

Dick gave him a mocking confused look. "Well I'm not driving anything yet, not physically at least. Have to learn how first.

"Soooooo…" He gave his trade mark grinning puppy-dog eyes as he begged. "Please? Please teach me how to drive so I can get my license! Pretty please!"

Bruce froze in silence for a minute, knowing already what was coming. He was in for a lot of begging and pleas and continual nagging and reasoning until he finally gave in. When Dick wanted something, _really_ wanted something, he did everything he could to get it. It was only the safety of smaller children that kept him from getting the guy a dog for the longest time. And with the way they were trying to con Damian into their begging for one, he knew that standstill would soon be over.

Internally he groaned as he gave in. It wasn't an entirely unreasonable request anyway. "Fine."

"YES!" Dick punched the air above him emphatically. He must really have wanted this.

"But on my terms!" Bruce insisted. "I'll reserve a place for practice this weekend. It has to be one of the newer cars, and I drive us to and from the place. Are we clear?"

"Crystal!" The teen ran up to him and gave him a quick hug in purest ecstasy. "Thanks Bruce! You won't regret it!"

As soon as those words were out of the teen's mouth, he already did.

* * *

"TURN! TURN!"

"Relax Bruce! I've got this."

"LEFT! NOT RIGHT!"

"I thought that was left."

"BRAKES!"

"Seriously, stop panicking. I got this."

"HIT THE BRAKES NOW!"

* * *

To say Bruce was in a foul mood when the two returned would be pushing it. Alfred hadn't seen him so stressed out since Dick had run off when he was nine. He didn't bother talking to the old butler and see how the others behaved when the duo came home. He just went straight to the batcave to get something done.

"I take it the lesson did not go well Master Richard?"

Dick shrugged helplessly. "I thought it was fine, except for all of the yelling on Bruce's end. Is that lemon bars I smell?"

"Just one until after dinner." The teen grinned at him before darting to the kitchen and all the goodies within. Little Damian was tailing behind him seconds after, releasing the butler of his most worrisome charge at the time. The other three were busy with their usual activities. Now with only one to worry over, Alfred made his way down to the Batcave to see what the head of the household was up to now. "If I may ask—"

"It was a disaster." Bruce was rapidly typing on his consol, hacking his way through several low level firewalls and passcodes with ease. "He has a lead foot and kept switching rights and lefts on the steering wheel. It was as if he learned to fly a plane first, then a car. I am not going to go through that again."

"Ah. Should I be arranging a pickup for the Studebaker's repairs then?" Judging by their physical states, it wasn't a total disaster.

"Fender-bender and a paint job." He was nearly through the systems before him and nearing his goal. "Nothing too critical. His reflexes saved us in some small ways."

"And this drives you into hacking into school records?" Alfred stepped next to the computer chair and raised an eyebrow. He saw this page before when Jason tried to change his grades a couple months ago.

"He's taking Driver's ED, period." Quickly the detective changed the schedule around for his son so Driver's ED was included in the electives. It also made someone else have her dropped elective, but he was certain whoever the Suisse Q was she wouldn't mind Home Ec too much. "I am not going to try that again."

"I see."

* * *

The semester that followed ended not only with parties and games, but with Dick driving everyone to a celebration dinner in the nicer part of Gotham. Bruce was a bit on edge in the car, but even though the kid still had a lead foot, he was a cautious driver. "Remind me to send a generous donation to your school's Driver's ED department later."

The teen grinned at him across the table the whole family was eating at. Selina Kyle was even there, helping out with Damian on the other side of Bruce. Jason was seeing how close he could get his napkin to the candle's flame without getting burned while both Tim and Cass were ignoring the rest of the world while they read their books. Each of them were bored waiting for their food to arrive. "I thought you were the one who got me in there. My guidance councilor said the class was full when I tried to sign up."

"Apparently they were mistaken." The CEO sipped his wine lightly, hoping he wouldn't have to drive on the way home. "I'm just admiring how much you've improved since that day I tried to teach you."

Dick smirked. "You mean, the day you had a total breakdown in a car."

"Really?" Nearly every set of eyes at the table were on the man now. Selina and Jason seemed particularly interested.

"Lead foot," he told them quickly. "And he didn't know right from left."

"Well some things are easier to explain than others." This won a smirk from everyone at the table, just in time for the meal to arrive. Somewhere in the middle of it, Dick leaned closer to Bruce, an impish spark in his eyes. "Hey Bruce? Can I get a motorcycle?"

* * *

A/N: *diez laughing* love it when a story goes full circle. XD The fact he has a license is important for later stories, but this was fun anyway. there's clearly a lot of other stories I haven't gotten to writing yet but this was the next one I've finished. I have a couple more pre-dami's I'm working on too.

Until next time. =]


	26. Bird's Comfort

This one's kinda out of any continuity. Place it anywhere between the beginning of the series and Driving Lesson. Sorry, no humor this time. Enjoy!

* * *

**Bird's Comfort**

It didn't matter how old he was. The nightmare still came. Sometimes he could avoid them, other nights he realized it was a dream and was able to control them. And then there were the nights he woke up before the worst part. But right around that one time of the year, nothing worked. He'd just wake up screaming.

Just like that night.

His voice hurt his throat and he clawed at the air, getting tangled in his sheets in a fitful nightmare. He shouted for them, begging and pleading for the dream to change for the better. Often it changed for the worse. Sometimes the dead would rise, broken and bloodied, and come after him. Other times he just felt their pain, physically. And there was no escaping this nightmare, no matter how he tried. He was trapped. Trapped with horrid memories he never wanted to relive but would never leave him. Trapped in events he wished he could change. If only they never happened. If only he could…

"Dick! Wake up!"

Trembling, the boy's eyes jerked open, seeing the only comfort he had since those horrible days. Bruce held onto his shoulders, trying earlier to wake him by gentle shakes. Sometimes that worked. Most of the time though…

Dick dived into his second father's arms, clutching onto him for dear life. Tears streamed down his face as the visions continued to come through his mind. He couldn't forget it. Never would. The way his parents…

How could anyone do that to them? Make them fall like that? What did they ever do to him? For money? What use was money when there wasn't anyone you loved to share it with? You could be happy so long as there were people you cared for with you. The circus was filled with people who cared about each other, not rich. Not rich at all. They shouldn't have…

"Shhh…" Bruce held the crying boy close, rubbing his back and rocking him like he did every time he had these terrors. Ever since Dick came to live with him, he would be the one to ease him back to sleep just like this. It wasn't easy. Nothing ever was.

"It's okay now. You're safe. You're safe little Robin."

"Why…" The boy asked weakly. He was always asking, and Bruce had no answer. He kept asking the same question when it came to his own parents. "Why…"

"Hush…" He kept rocking the boy, holding him close for reassurance. Dick always favored physical contact over words alone. But there were a few words he cherished most, the ones his mother used to help him rest as a child. "It'll be alright in the morning my Robin. We'll be flying again soon. Rest your wings for now. Dream of warm fields and bright suns, and it'll be morning before you know it."

Slowly the sobs ended but the lad would not let go. He'd never let go of those he loved and needed more than anything. Even as his eyes started to droop once again, Bruce's shirt remained in his tight grip. The boy wouldn't let go until near dawn, he learned that years ago. Resigned, the man kept one hand on Dick's back while scooping the rest of him out of his sheets to carry him away. Slowly he eased off the boy's bed and carried him out of the room towards his own. There were others who resided there who frequently had nightmares, some more traumatizing than others, but they too needed their father's comfort some nights. Dick's bed wasn't large enough for everyone, and he was used to occasionally waking safely in the master bedroom.

Though it was embarrassing as he grew older, he never complained. Neither of them did. It was one of their personal quirks, their tradition alone. Sad though it be, they took some comfort in it. As Bruce settled himself and the sleepy boy on his giant bed, Dick snuggled into him, glad to know he wouldn't be leaving any time soon. Bruce just ran a hand through his hair and murmured a few more words his son had told him his mother would use when he had bad dreams.

"I'm here Robin, I'm here. And I'm not going anywhere. So rest my little bird. Sleep until dawn, and know I'll always be here to protect you."

* * *

A/N: yeah, it's an awwweee moment. Clearly these events lessen over time, but it does happen. Mostly, I just wanted people to know that even if he isn't fighting crime or swinging off rooftops, Robin is still Dick's petname and is one of the ways Bruce calms him down. It'll be important later. =]


	27. Grandkids

Okay, honestly, I had to write this for a future arch reference. Not entirely happy with it but... *shrug* well, can say this is what would happen the first time they visit the Kent farm. Pre-Dami

Dick-14 Jason-10 Cass-8 Timmy-6

* * *

**Grandkids**

The sun was barely up outside but that hardly mattered to the residents of the house. They were up that early all the time, feeding chickens, canning beans, milking cows, doing repairs… the list went on. Work on a farm was never done, not even in winter. Thankfully that though was over and wouldn't be coming again for quite some time. But none of that mattered when someone was knocking at the door.

Quickly the excited lady of the house was there, followed closely by her husband of forty years. They had been waiting for this day for weeks. When she whipped open the door her son was the first to greet her. "Ma! Pa!"

"Clark! Come here you!" Ma Kent gave her large grown son a strong hug, receiving one in return before motioning him in, along with the others in tow. "Was the flight alright?"

"Better than could be expected, all things considered," a man around the same age as their son answered, carrying his six year old against his shoulder. Three other children walked in before him , looking around, one shyly and the other two with broad smiles. An older gentleman came in last, a little dishelved but otherwise fine. "I never thought of flying by Lincoln before."

"This is so weird…" one boy murmured.

"It's like a movie set!" The oldest boy looked over to Clark expectantly, wonder and amazement in his eyes. "Did you really grow up here? What was it like? Did you have chores? Are there horses here? And cows?"

"Dick…" his father warned, causing smiles and snickers among those around him.

"We saw cows only once on the road at the circus. They stampeded through the big top in Nebraska."

"My you're a talkative one." Ma Kent smiled, practically glowing at the sight of them.

"This is what happens when your son gives him sugar first thing in the morning Mrs. Kent." The man gave his comrade a shrewd glare causing a surge of giggles among the kids once more. He offered his free hand to Pa Kent. "Bruce Wayne."

"Jonathan Kent. Nice to meet you Bruce." The old farmer gave him a firm handshake and was pleased this man's grip was as good as his own. He could tell a lot of things from a single handshake.

"Likewise."

"And what're your names sweeties?" the lady asked, using her grandma voice (she never had a chance to use it before).

"Guess!" the second oldest boy said before anyone could introduce themselves. The one girl shied away from them and went to her father's leg before anyone could ask her any particular questions.

Both men rolled their eyes. "Ma, Pa, I'd like you to meet Jason, Dick, Timmy, and Cassandra," Clark indicated each one as he said their names. "Ages ten, fourteen, six, and eight respectively."

"Oh sure, take all the fun out of life." Jason threw up his hands for dramatic effect.

"You forgot to include Alfred!" Dick objected loudly, flailing a hand towards the gentleman in the corner. He looked over to the old butler who had a ghost of a smile on at the exchange. "We'd be lost without him!"

"Thank you Master Richard." The old butler bowed slightly, glad someone remembered him. He tended to fall into the background far too often for his liking.

"Hey there little guy," Pa cooed, coming over to Timmy, cuddling up on Bruce's shoulder. "Are you hiding?"

"No," came his soft reply, rubbing his eyes.

"Timmy stayed up too late last night, reading," Bruce explained, keeping back the part where he kept telling him to get some sleep. "Said he was too excited. Then he fell asleep in the car flight over here."

"You really flew them where in their car." Clark gave his father a slightly sorry smile. It was the best way to bring them without causing a ruckus and having to make a cover story. As far as the world was concerned, the Waynes were just staying home for the weekend. All calls were being forwarded to their cells.

"Hey lady!" Jason started rudely, tugging on Ma Kent's sleeve. "What's your name? And age!"

"Jason!" his father reproved quickly.

But the woman laughed merrily. "My name's Martha, and I'm fifty-eight. Hey, why don't I show you were you'll be sleeping tonight okay? And I can show you Clark's old room, and all his old toys."

"COOL!" Dick was nearly charging through the house already in order to find it. Jason had just as big a grin on his face but wasn't running, yet. Timmy was looking over to his brothers and the lady, groggy still but interested.

"You want to go with them?" Bruce asked the youngest. The kid nodded, still rubbing his eyes awake. Slowly he eased the boy to the floor and he followed his oldest brother to where ever he was going. "Have fun."

"Hey! Was Martha a popular name when you were born?" The trouble maker asked the lady.

"I don't think so," she answered, cocking her head curiously before asking, "Why?"

"'Cause Dad's mom's name was Martha too." This won a surprised look from the Kents and an awkward embarrassed one from his father.

"Really!" Martha Kent looked up at Bruce, smiling slightly, but it turned a little to confusion when she saw a measure of pain on the man's face. "What a coincidence."

"Yeah coincidence." The CEO looked over to his daughter still hiding behind his legs, changing the subject as quickly as possible. "Don't you want to play with the others Cass?" She shook her head against him, clutching onto him tightly. The man gave their hosts an apologetic smile. "Alright then, but it may be a bit boring staying with me."

"Tough luck," Jason stated quickly, tugging in the lady's arm. "So how about that tour?"

"May I advise before something breaks," Alfred piped in, inclining his head to where Dick and Timmy had run off moments ago. The two were talking loudly, even giggling as they poked around the considerably smaller house. And knowing little boys… "I will assist in any way I can Mrs. Kent."

"Just call me Martha." She grinned at him then started leading the butler and the boys through the house while her husband and son continued getting acquainted with Bruce and the shy girl still hiding behind her father.

* * *

"And this is the barn," Pa Kent announced, partway through his tour of the farm. Alfred and Clark stayed with Martha at the house to help settle things there. Jonathan was responsible for distracting four kids and one adult in the meantime, and quite a few were energetic.

"SWEET!" Dick ran forward and grabbed a hanging rope, swinging and climbing it into the rafters. "This place is so cool!"

"Get down from there!" The farmer shouted immediately, his heart racing at the danger the kid was putting himself in. But the teen just laughed, leaping from beam to beam like a cat chasing a bird. "NO! Wait! Stop! Cla—"

"Dick, feet on the ground!" Bruce ordered, not at all surprised by his antics. "You're going to give Mr. Kent a heart attack if you stay up there!"

"Awww…." Quickly the acrobat leapt for the rope he climbed to get up there and slithered down until he was five feet from the ground. Promptly he let go, turning into a flip before landing nicely on the dirt floor. "WHOO HOO! Ten point!"

"What were you—" The old man really was starting to think he'd have a heart attack. But the kids' father rested a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him down.

"Sorry about that. Dick's an aerialist, has been since he was three. He sees something he can climb and swing off of and he has to try it out." He gave the teen a shrewd glare. "Dick, rule 9."

The teen folded his arms pouting slightly. "Party pooper."

"And rule 10 while we're at it. That goes for you too Jason." The man looked over to the trouble maker climbing up on the walls separating the stalls. Jason looked over his shoulder, pouting slightly before stepping down. "No one's exempt and this isn't the manor."

"But I wanted to see the cows!" the ten year old declared. "Where are they?"

"Out to pasture," Pa explained, letting his heart settle back down. At least the younger two were behaving. Well, Timmy was, looking around with his hands behind his back even. Cassandra was still being shy hiding behind her daddy's leg. "I only have them in here for milking, pregnancies, or if they're sick. This place is mostly just for the horse or for winter months. Good for storage.

"And up there," he pointed to a loft not too far away, "is where Clark used to sleep, back when he was a teenager and didn't want to sleep in the house during the warm seasons. Ah… those were the days."

"We've got a carriage house and a guest house," Timmy offered in an attempt to make similarities. "And two garages! And a—"

"That's enough," his father prompted, laying a hand on his shoulder to silence him. He didn't want to make the farmer feel awkward. "We have things like barns and coops at home too, I know. Did you build this place?"

Pa Kent shrugged. "Rebuilt parts of it. Back when Clark was learning how to use his powers, several pieces had to be replaced. The majority of this was put together at a barn-raising about fifty years ago."

"Fifty years…" "Wow…"

The boys' eyes bulged at the idea. Their father on the other hand nodded, very impressed. "Very well put together. My complements to the carpenters."

"You think this is good?" the farmer grinned at them, glad their humble abode impressed them. "Wait until you see the chicken coops. I built those myself. Clark helped with their repair work too, but it was mostly me."

As the little family followed their host out, Cass stumbled, tumbling into the hay. Quickly her father picked her up and started carrying her, watching her with some concern. Her eyes weren't focused and he didn't know her to stumble very often. Something wasn't right….

* * *

Martha and Alfred were merrily working in the kitchen, comparing recipes and giving each other tips when Timmy came charging in, talking at sixty miles per hour. "Alfred! Alfred! Cass isn't feeling good! And I got some eggs! And Jason and Dick are throwing them around and calling each other names again! And Daddy got his pants dirty! And Grandpa Kent said cows don't just go Moo! And that wasps don't bother you unless you bother them! And… oh! Daddy said to make something light for Cass! She's really not feeling good."

"I see." Quickly the old butler gathered the eggs from the young lad and put them on the counter before Mrs. Kent made any commentary. "I'll get straight to work."

"My you're a fast one," the lady stated, slightly amused. "Just like your big brother. Does it run in the family?"

"Believe me, Master Richard is by far the chattiest. Young Master Timothy," the older man started, "would you be so kind as to lead Mrs. Kent to Master Bruce to assess Miss Cassandra's condition?"

"Assess?" The boy cocked his head at the word, blinking owlishly. A habit of his.

"To see how she is and make a judgment," he replied.

"Ooohhhh… Okay!" The kid grabbed the woman's hand and started pulling her back the way he came. "This way!"

Soon the two were back in the family room, greeted by Bruce carrying his little girl back into the house. The child really didn't look very well. Her eyes were half closed, her flushed head leaning heavily against her father's shoulder. Occasionally she gave a week cough but not much more. Mostly she just seemed weak.

"What happened?" Martha felt Cass' forehead and cheek, surprised to feel it so warm. She wasn't like this when they arrived, was she? "Allergies? Valley Fever?"

"I don't think so. Timmy, can you grab that blanket for me?" The boy nodded and fetched one of the small handmade quilts. "I received a notice of this bug going around their school, but I thought they had their shots for it already. Thank you." He took the blanket and clumsily tried to put it around his girl with one arm. Mrs. Kent took it from him and draped it around them before guiding him to one of the soft chairs. "Thank you. It's possible the change in altitude and trip over here aggravated the contagion."

"Ahg-ra…vate the cont…igen?" Timmy asked, blinking owlishly.

"Made her sick," Bruce translated, shifting Cassandra around so he could wrap her up better in the quilt. She didn't make a sound the whole time, worrying the lady a bit.

"Do you have a sore throat honey?" she crooned to the girl, who just shied away like before. Worry flashed across her face. "Did I say something wrong?"

"Cassandra has a hard time talking in general," the man said in explanation. He tilted her head back a bit and gently opened her mouth to see how her throat was anyway. "Something we've been working on since she joined us. Let me see… Looks a little red. Alfred, did you bring any medicine with you?"

"Of course sir." Martha jerked around in surprise, having not heard the butler come back in. Alfred carried in a steaming teapot and a box with a few bags on a tray along with a few mismatched cups. He set the tray down on an end table, then too felt the girl's head. "Oh dear… Playing too hard in a new climate. I am reminded of a certain young man in his first week in Korea."

"That was food poisoning." His quick rebuttal stirred a giggle out of the little boy watching in wait. And that giggle gained him a quick glare.

"If you insist." Mild amusement played on the edges of Alfred's face as he prepared a quick cup. "Lemon and peppermint. Should sooth both her throat and stomach until I have something better prepared for her."

"Come on Cassandra," her father coaxed soothingly as he brought the cup to her lips. "Drink up. It'll help you rest."

Bleary eyed, the young girl lifted her head off his shoulder and started to sip the drink. She made a slight face but didn't complain, very different from the other children Martha was used to seeing around Smallville. Soon she finished the drink and the cup was passed back to the old man. "There you go. Good job. Now go ahead and rest. I'll wake you when your medicine's ready."

Silently the girl nodded, then let her eyes close. Within seconds she was fast asleep in her father's arms. Bruce looked up to Alfred and Martha nearby. "Mrs. Kent, mind keeping Timmy busy for a while? Your husband is trying to break up the fight between Dick and Jason outside."

Though an odd request, the lady nodded. "Of course."

"Aww…." Timmy whined, pouting slightly. "I wanted to stay with you! We could watch tv!"

"Now now," Ma Kent stared, charmed by his cute exclamation, "how would you like to help me make some cookies?"

"Cookies?"

Who knew it'd just take one word to have this six year old change his tune. Before any of the adults could blink he was running back into the kitchen, excited about cookies whether they were made or not. Martha laughed and followed after him. "Cookies, and I think tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches are in order. Clark, be a dear and help us out with that will you?"

She looked over to her son almost hiding in the far corner of the room, looking out the window at the scene outside. Mr. Kent was pulling two boys covered in eggs bits, dirt, and rye grass, away from each other. The fight must have been very entertaining for the man of steel to not intervene on anyone's account.

"Huh? Oh, sure Ma." The reporter followed after her obediently, his mind elsewhere. Knowing her son, Martha just shirked it off as one of those times he was lost in thought. But the detective raised a curious eyebrow as his butler went off to fetch medicine for the sick child and clean clothes and towels for the two outside.

* * *

"This is all your fault," Dick jibed, standing indignantly in the trough Pa Kent ordered him into. Jason was a good foot away from him, glaring daggers as well. "If you hadn't—"

"It's both your faults," Mr. Kent stated flatly as he sprayed them with the garden hose. An outside showerhead was above them, washing off part of the muck they lathered themselves in while fighting, while the farmer hosed them down where the shower couldn't reach. "You shouldn't be fighting, at all."

"We're always fighting," the teenager murmured, scrubbing some mud out of his hair.

"And the rules don't say we can't," Jason added, wiping some egg remains at his brother.

"Watch it!"

"What? Afraid to get more egg on your face?" The mocking laugh the kid was about to use was cut off by a few coughs.

"That's enough! Both of you!" Pa Kent squirt both of them in the face just to get them to stop fighting. He shook his head, sighing heavily. Now he was glad they just took in Clark. Imagine two or more… The fights they could have… "Seriously… Look, I know your family has rules, and maybe they work fine there, but here I have some of my own. Rule one: no fighting! It startles the animals and makes them difficult to work with. And you two are family! Family shouldn't be fighting!"

"What fantasy land have you been—OW!" Jason glared daggers at Dick, who gave him a reproving glare in response. "What was that one for?!"

"What did I just say?" the old man couldn't believe these two. But then…

"We're guests here," the teenager insisted, stressing on the word guests. "That means we play by their house rules. So cool it, or I'll bring Bruce in on it. We're supposed to be on our best behavior!"

This only gained a bitter scowl from his brother, but the kid jerked his eyes away, pouting. "Fine. But I'm kicking your trash as soon as we get home. Got it circus brat?"

"Fine, street rat."

"Is that your idea of a cease fire?" Pa Kent gaped at them in disbelief. The boys just gave each other impassive, near identical looks, before nodding.

"Yeah." "Pretty much."

The man sighed heavily. Yeah, he was grateful he only had Clark. "Alright… Turn around so I can get the rest of you."

"Why can't we just use the shower?" Jason demanded as they obeyed.

"Ma doesn't want anything messy on her nice clean floor." He gave their backs a spray, targeting the harder dirt and egg covered areas. Really, why did they fight to begin with? What a waste of eggs…

Dick giggled, reflexively crouching as the water hit him. "Sounds like Alfred."

"How much more until—" coughing cut the younger boy's question short, gaining another look from his brother. "Until we're clean enough to go in?"

"You're just about done." The old farmer turned off the showerhead and did one more pass with the hose before being satisfied. He put the hose to the side to finish cleaning up when he stopped the boys from walking right back onto the dirt. "Hold it. There's a stone path to the back porch that way. Take it and wait there until we get you some towels to dry off, got it?"

"Bet Alfred will have them there already," Jason predicted as they both exited the tub as ordered.

"Got it Mr. Kent. Sorry for the mess." Quickly the two boys ran off towards the back of the house, perfectly stepping on each stone instead of wandering into the dirt or grass. The man shook his head as he wound up his hose and prepared to empty the trough. Those two greatly reminded him of the days Clark and his best friend Pete were rough housing on the lawn, before his boy gained is super strength.

Soon enough he was back in the house and about to fetch some towels, only to be greeted by both boys, changed and mostly dried, sitting on the couch. Dick had just thrown a blanket on top of Jason. "I'm not cold!"

"You're huddling," the teenager insisted, glaring slightly. He glanced once over to Bruce and Cassandra in a nearby chair. "And you've been coughing. And don't think I didn't see you shiver out there when we were getting washed off. You're sick. Just like Cass."

"I'm not—" Two rapid sneezes and a series of coughs interrupted him, ending all doubt in the other members of his family's minds. Jason just scowled at them. "I'm fine."

"Currently," Bruce stated flatly, but in a low enough tone not to wake the girl in his arms. "Humor us and make sure you don't get worse. Take the medication Alfred gives you and rest on the couch there for the rest of the day."

"But I'm—" This time Pa Kent interrupted him, by putting his hand on the lad's forehead.

"Yep, fever," he confirmed. "Slight right now, but there. Better rest up there son. Can't milk Bessy tomorrow morning if you can't kick this tonight."

"Seriously?" One of the reasons the boys were fighting earlier was because they were sent to help with the eggs over working with other livestock. Pa Kent promised them a try at milking the following morning and both boys wanted to make the other one give up trying for it. Somehow it deteriorated to name calling and punches. Jason threw the first egg.

"True. Cows can sense things." He smirked to himself at a memory. "There was one time I was hiding the flu from Martha and Clark, did a good job of it too. And Bessy wouldn't even let me touch her. So rest up and get better so she'll let you near, 'kay son?"

Jason looked away, bitterly realizing the truth. Pouting, he took the blanket Dick had thrown on him and covered everything but his head as he set himself into the corner of the couch. "Fine… But I'm not taking any naps."

Both men chuckled. "Fine by me. Clark, mind picking a movie for them to watch?"

"Ah," the kryptonian was watching in the doorway, lost in thought until then, "sure. Any preferences?"

"Not Disney," the younger boy stated quickly, earning smirks from his family. The Kents though were confused. Why not Disney? They didn't have many kid friendly movies, and most were Disney either way. But before they could pose the question, Alfred strode in and selected a case, handing it to Clark before he could say a word. Then the butler strode back out of the room towards where he had placed their baggage earlier.

Clark looked at the title then back to where Alfred went. Pa Kent went to his side and blinked at it as well. "Labrynth?"

"Wuzzat?" Jason asked, curious. Bruce even seemed interested. But Dick was excited.

"I haven't seen that in years! Let's see it!"

"What is it about?" Their father cocked his head as he asked, surprising half the room.

"It's about a girl who makes a bad wish that comes true and so she has to go on a rescue mission in order to save her baby brother! She faces goblins, strange creatures, dwarves and a topsy-turvy world where sometimes the bad guys aren't really bad and the good guys are hard to figure out. It's a classic." The young acrobat was really getting excited about the movie.

"Then why haven't I heard of it?" Bruce asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Because Master Bruce," Alfred chimed in, carrying a small medical kit, "you were far too interested in forensics and facts than fantasy movies when it came out."

"Ah."

"Daddy! Daddy!" Timmy rushed in carrying a plate of hot chocolate chip cookies, grinning from ear to ear with some chocolate smeared on his face. "Look! We made cookies!"

"Very good," his father murmured, shifting slightly in his seat so he could grab one. "Mm… not bad at all. Maybe you should be a chef when you grow up."

Overly pleased with the praise, the boy pranced around the room offering cookies. Almost everyone grinned at his antics as the movie started to roll. The kid settled down after putting the plate on an end table and sitting next to Jason, nearly bouncing off the walls. "So! What are we watching?"

* * *

It was almost a shame to wake Cassandra and Jason for dinner, but the two needed to eat. Martha felt the girl's head as they settled her into her own chair at the dinner table. "Hmmm… feel any better sweety?"

Cass nodded mutely before looking over to Jason, curious. He just scowled bitterly at the table, frustrated more than anything. "Why didn't you wake me up earlier? I didn't even get to see them leave the Bog of Eternal Stench."

"Those pink fuzzy guys were scary," Timmy admitted. "And that ball…"

"There was a ball?"

"You snooze you lose!" Dick bragged, taking a sandwich away from the middle of the table before sitting back down. Alfred finished placing bowls of tomato soup before them just as Bruce gave the teen a light karate chop to the head. "Ow!"

"Maybe you'll be the next one to get sick," the man chided before taking his own place between the two not feeling so good.

"Hey, I'm all for passing out while watching something I've seen before. But Jay falling asleep means we get to see it again when we get home." He grinned at the thought. "Never can get enough Jim Hensen."

Bruce grunted in response, taking a glass of water for himself before taking anything for himself. Martha Kent looked around a little awkwardly. "Sorry it's not what you're used to but—"

"It's more than enough Mrs. Kent," he told her quickly. "No need to put yourself out because of us."

"Hey Uncle Clark!" Dick waved over the farm boy off to the side of the room. "Come on over and join us! You've got to be starving!"

Clark laughed to himself. "I'm fine, really. It's not that big of a table you know."

"Big enough for all of us. Get over here!" The rest of the kids looked over to him now, impish grins growing on their faces. Their father gave him a knowing look while his mother gave him a 'get over here' glare. Resigned, the alien joined them just as his father brought in a couple more chairs.

"I knew we had a few more spares! And I found a piece of ply wood that's just the right size. We can bring it in tonight so breakfast won't be so crowded." Jonathan Kent handed one to his son and another to Alfred before taking the last two for Martha and himself.

"Yeah, nine people around a five by five foot table probably isn't the best idea we've had." The kids snickered at their father's comment.

"Almost makes you miss that dining table at the manor, does it not?" Alfred sent a knowing look at his employer.

"How long is that?" Martha asked, taking a sandwich then dipping it in the soup before eating it.

He gave a heavy sigh. "Thirty by three. We only use it for dinner parties or guests. Else we eat in the kitchen, either at the bar or on a much smaller table."

"Uncle Clark's seen it," Timmy piped in, enjoying his sandwich greatly.

"Uncle Clark eh?" Pa Kent stated, taking a spoonful of the soup. His eyes nearly popped. "This is amazing! There's no way Martha made this."

"Pa!" Clark objected in his mother's defense. But she took it easily in stride, also impressed.

"Alfred, I have to get this recipe," the lady insisted, taking a spoonful herself. "It is simply divine!"

"Where did you learn to cook like this?" Pa asked eagerly.

"Her majesty's special forces." This made the farmer's still, shocked at the statement. The Waynes held back their snickers when the y saw their faces.

Calmly, Bruce explained. "Alfred has a very interesting employment history. I believe you were mostly in the services as support, right? Intelligence, arraignments, behind the scenes."

"Mostly." The hint of a smile on his face sent the boys into roaring laughter. Even Cassandra and Bruce smirked at their faces, eating without any fear. "I assure you, I have done nothing I would not allow Master Bruce to do while he donned cape and cowl."

The Kents stared at them a moment longer before Ma let out an uneasy laugh. "Glad you're on our side. Didn't know there were so many dangerous people here."

"I assure you Mrs. Kent," the butler started as the kids calmed down, "you are perfectly safe from the likes of us. Particularly with your son here. I cannot vouch for your safety from the children here," more impish giggling filled the room, "but from myself and Master Bruce, there is nothing to fear. Well, unless you allow him the use of your kitchen."

As everyone who knew the billionaire roared with laughter, Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. He really didn't want that bit of information to get out again, but Alfred liked to embarrass him when in close company. A series of coughs from the two on either side of him made him look up. Jason was still laughing despite it all. He gave them an awkward smirk, letting the Kents relax again. Dangerous though they be, they wouldn't harm them.

"Enough already. Dinner's getting cold." The boys tried to quiet down and return to their meal, making the Kents grin in return.

After a few minutes where Martha and Alfred talked recipes while Bruce coaxed Cassandra into eating a sandwich and some of her soup, Timmy looked over to Clark, curious. "Uncle Clark? Are you sick too?"

"Huh?" The confused look on the alien's face was almost priceless. But the question caught the adults' attention. "Sick? Me? No… I don't get sick."

The kid pointed to his food. "But you're not eating very much."

"Oh that's just Clark," Martha offered as explanation, waving it off. "He doesn't need food as much as we do. Some nights he eats like a pig and others he's like a rabbit. Hasn't had a steady appetite since he was twelve."

"Ma…"

"I'm more interested in why you call him 'Uncle Clark'," Pa declared, looking over to the two healthy boys.

"Dick's idea," Jason stated flatly as he devoured his soup. The kid never was one for wasting food.

The teenager shrugged, thinking it was nothing. "Back at the circus, everyone was close. We were all one big happy family as far as I was concerned. Didn't have any other relatives so…" he gave an awkward smile, "they were my aunts and uncles. Since the League's been coming and going from our place a lot, mostly Superman, I thought it'd be cool if he'd be our uncle. He hasn't objected so We never stopped calling him that."

"But he's not related to you," the old man persisted, still confused, "at all."

"None of us are related to each other," Dick pointed out, smirking. "Doesn't mean we're not family."

"Next thing you'll know, Dick'll be calling you Grandma and Grandpa Kent." Jason grabbed another sandwich, dunking it in the soup before eating it like Ma Kent had. His brother looked away a bit shamefaced while the younger cocked his head to the side.

"Is that not okay?" Timmy looked over to Ma Kent, who remembered the boy calling her husband 'Grandpa Kent' earlier that day.

"It's a bit compli—" Pa started only to get cut off by his wife.

"Of course it's okay sweetheart," she crooned, elated to hear the title. She gave the kid a little hug in appreciation. "Call us whatever you like. Though I feel the title belongs more to Alfred here over us."

"Madam," the man in question started, "I am merely the butler, nothing more."

But off to the side Dick mouthed to her, 'We tried.' Slightly grim and awkward glances were passed among the Waynes before Bruce ended the debate. "Alfred refuses to be called anything but his given name. It is just something we have to live with. Speaking of which, do you have the medicine ready?"

As the old friend rose to fetch the desired drugs and they changed subjects yet again, Clark went back to fiddling with his food, quiet as a mouse. Bruce watched him out of the corner of his eye, curious.

* * *

Clark Kent was staring at the bright starry sky, listening as they settled down the children for the night. He heard his parents' happy tired sighs as the last of them quieted and they too started heading for bed. Likewise Alfred was doing the same, performing some preparations for the next day as was his habit apparently. Be prepared seemed to be a motto he lived by more than Bruce.

Speaking of whom, the billionaire walked up behind the farm boy, not trying to hide his presence this time while the man of steel had his eyes locked on the clear sky above. Clark liked to sit on the front porch step sometimes to think, or to stop thinking. Especially now. "Mind if I join you?"

He smirked at the rich man's request. "Please. Have a seat."

Bruce sat down on the other side of the step, making sure they weren't touching. He looked over to the reporter for a minute, the man's glasses tucked away in his pocket and a bottle in his hands. "Never took you as the beer drinking kind."

"Not usually." A case sat just behind him, or rather the meager ends of one. Three bottles were lined up on the porch, empty. "My body metabolizes it differently than humans so I'm never affected by it. Just like a few brands tastes.

"You want some?" Clark almost reached behind him to pass one over before pausing for an answer. "I know you probably prefer fine wines over this cheap stuff but—"

"It's fine. Thank you." Bruce took the bottle he was about to offer, popping it open. Clark actually stared at him in surprise for a moment. "I don't get many chances to try them to tell the truth, not since my traveling days."

"Alfred watches you like a hawk doesn't he," he offered as explanation.

"You have no idea." The man took a sip and frowned slightly. "Hm. Barley based?"

"Most are. This one's local."

"Interesting." Bruce held the bottle, debating whether or not to take another taste.

"There isn't enough here for you to get drunk," Clark continued, looking back to the sky. It earned a small chuckle from the CEO.

"I make a point not to anymore. Only causes trouble." He decided to try it again. Tasted better after the second round, but not by much. "Hm. I'll have to remember to get your father a better brand."

"Support small businesses Bruce," the reporter chided, trying to be playful.

"I do. I buy them and keep them in business to make sure they don't go under."

They didn't talk for a moment, enjoying the quiet. Kent took a sip of his drink before speaking again. "Sorry about the kids getting sick."

"It happens," Bruce murmured. "I don't usually take them on long range trips so this was to be expected."

"I guess so." A touch of sadness was in the man's voice. "I've never been sick, unless kryptonite counts."

"Everyone's allergic to radiation Clark. You're just sensitive to a certain kind."

"Ah."

He looked over to the alien with his eyes still on the stars. Bruce's brow furled in thought at the sight. "Nice night."

"Hm."

"Good night for a flight."

"Mhm."

Silence.

Bruce gave him a shrewd glare. "Okay Kent, why did you really make us come here?"

"What?" Clark looked over to him, blinking slightly.

"You heard me." His eyes narrowed a fraction, demanding answers. "Why did you make us come here?"

"I didn't—"

"You talked to Dick, who talked to Jason, who both talked to Alfred, and all three of them talked to me about it over the dinner table." Bruce didn't like being manipulated, even if the end results were relatively harmless and possibly enjoyable. He had enjoyed the day, really, sick children included. He hadn't had one where he could just sit and talk about something other than work in some time. And the way the Kents acted almost reminded him of his own parents, had they lived to their age. But something was up with Clark, and this trip happened for a reason he didn't yet know. "That's as good as forcing me to come over here, short of kidnapping."

The alien hesitated. "Don't you like it here?" he asked timidly.

He rolled his eyes. "I don't mind it, really. You're parents are really good people and the kids are learning a lot about farms and animals. I just want to know what's really going on. Why are we here?"

"To enjoy yourselves," Clark answered weakly, looking straight down the path leading off the property without seeing anything. He started busying his hands and mouth with his bottle. "You really could—"

"Bull. And you know it." He narrowed his eyes further. Bruce hated when people lied to him. Especially when they weren't good at it.

"Seriously, I thought you'd like it here." The guy was going to stick with that story for as long as possible. His eyes and face though told a different story.

"Maybe, but that's not the real reason." Bruce watched him for a good minute in silence, hoping it'd prompt some sort of reaction from the man. "Clark, what happened? You brought us over here for a reason. You've been watching us with your parents all day. Now you're drinking cheap beer on your parents' doorstep, looking at the stars. You haven't asked to help the kids with anything the entire time. This isn't like you. What's going on?"

Clark kept his eyes forward, his face still, trying to fight back emotions. The alien must have forgotten who he was dealing with: the world's greatest detective who had emotionless faces down to a science. He was not being fooled by it for a second. Silence sat with them for a good while before the farm boy's head drooped, his whole body screaming defeat.

"I can't have kids."

The words hardly seemed to come out of his mouth. Saying it, the man felt so miserable. A harrowing pain filled his chest, making him nearly empty inside. A measure of sympathy appeared on Bruce's face, but not surprise. "Oh?"

"I talked to Hamilton at Star Labs, and he said my genetics were too different from humans to have children with them. Martians maybe but with J'onn being the last one…" His weak attempt at humor only made him feel more pathetic. It really hit him hard. He wanted to someday have children of his own and now he couldn't. Some wants could never be fulfilled.

"Is that all?"

A spark of anger lit in the man's face. He jerked up and glared at the man just sipping his beer. "Is that all?! Bruce, I can't have kids! My parents won't he grandparents! Ma tried for years to have a baby and every time… Do you have any idea how miserable they'll be when they find out?!"

"Some," Bruce answered calmly, still drinking.

"They'll never have grandkids! Everything they did with your kids today, they can't do that with their own!" Clark ran his hands through his hair, radiating misery with every breath. "And besides failing as a son to them, I'll always be the last of my kind. I can't do what my birth parents wanted either, to keep krypton's memory alive! I'll always be alone. Can't even marry a girl and expect a 'happily ever after'. How can I make a woman happy if I can't give her children? I can't—"

Something crashed itself over the depressed alien's head, shattering into a million pieces much to the man's surprise. He stopped his rambling and looked over to Bruce, holding the remains of his glass beer bottle. "What was that?!"

"Me trying to knock some sense into you without breaking my hand. Did it work?" The CEO merely raised an eyebrow at him coldly. Clark just stared at him for a moment in shock. Bruce just hit him over the head. Hit him! With a beer bottle! "Or should I go look for some kryptonite?"

"Why did you—"

"Consider who you're talking to Kent before you go back to your pity party." He set the remains of his bottle to the side, next to the other empties. "And then remember what you do have."

"But—"

"You have parents who took you in as an infant, regardless of circumstances. They raised you, knowing you'd be different. They've supported you every step of the way, kept you safe when they could.

"Most people wouldn't do that if they found a baby in a spacecraft in their fields one day. If most people had their way, you'd be locked away underground and studied all your life. Maybe you'd be a TV spectacle instead, if you were lucky."

Bruce waved around the farm before them. "You have no idea how lucky you were to have this childhood of yours, to have your parents. To still have them."

"You have Alfred," Clark tried to reason, only to get a headshake.

"No one gets over losing their parents Clark." His tone became darker, reminding him of his time as Batman. "Timmy has nightmares of finding his father's corpse and he hardly remembers him. Dick still wakes up screaming and crying from time to time, especially around their anniversary. I still have trouble some nights. Alfred's wonderful, really, but despite his efforts, and despite my own, the pain doesn't go away. Ever."

His glare hardened, driving another point home to the depressed alien once more. "So what if you can't have kids. I have four and not one are mine by blood. Adoption is always an option open to you when you're ready. Don't ever forget you're adopted too. And your parents did a fair job raising you. Just tell me when you're ready and I can help you with it. I'm sure you'll be able to handle one or two of your own when the time comes."

A bit of warmth filled the kryptonian's chest as he heard this. Bruce was right. He should focus on what he does have. But he was still envious of the billionaire. "At least you can have kids when you want them. Hamilton said I have less than 5% chance of ever having a child."

The man's glare softened slightly before he looked away. "That would still require a relationship Kent, and I can't seem to keep one for more than a month, if that. Those that last longer," mournful look entered the man's face, "tend to end in disaster.

"I've seen you with Lois." Clark nearly jumped out of his skin when Bruce made that statement. When? "While I was learning your secret identity and a few months after, I watched the two of you together. I think you two could have a long lasting, meaningful relationship. Potentially. And to quote Leslie, and Alfred, if a woman truly loves you, whether you can have children or not will not be an issue. Adoption is still an option and I can arrange it without any problems."

A smile started to grow on the alien's face as he took it all in. So while Clark Kent was envious of Bruce Wayne, single father of four with a human body and more money than he could spend in a lifetime, he was envious of the farm boy who had a full and joyous childhood, living parents, and the ability to keep a functioning relationship. Who knew.

"Thanks Bruce."

There was a slight twitch at the corner of the billionaire's mouth. Slowly he stood up and stretched. "Don't thank me yet. Wait until you have two or three of them tugging on your arm and constantly demanding attention."

With that the man left his friend on the porch step to either brood or just think. It didn't really matter now that Bruce had said his peace. The man had to get in bed before someone woke up and hunted him down for something.

* * *

A/N: Okay, I had the last scene in my head for a while. Not exactly glad leaving it there but there's only so much I can make them do on the Kent farm when they don't have much else to do yet. Like I said before, this is important for a future arch.

yes I have labrynth, and when I was a kid both the ball scene and the pink puppets who threw their heads around creeped me out. If you caught the Smallville references, kudos for you. Watched that until halfway through the third season I think, or whenever Lois became a regular, then periodically checked on it. really got weird for a while there I hear. Looking forward to see what they do with 'Arrow' though.

Haven't had a lot of between siblings fights lately so I thought they were due for one. Egging each other seemed plausible too. Cass didn't get a single line but considering she was both shy and sick, it makes sense. At least Cass got to be cuddly with Daddy. Was gonna have Jason sleeping next to Bruce too while the movie was running but couldn't manage to fit that in. Really, this whole thing reminded me way too much of my trips to my grandma's farm and how it'd be both boring and interesting each time. But we had waterwars instead of egg fights. =]

well, that's it for now. TTFN!


	28. Cat Nip

Okay, there's others mentioned and have lines, but really this is just something of a teaser. An idea of their early relationship. Very short. Pre DITF

Dick-15 Jason-12

* * *

**Cat Nip**

Selina twirled her noodles around her fork, giggling at the story Bruce had told her. "Really, what were you thinking?"

"I was thinking if a crippled monk could make the journey, I could too." Bruce raised the glass to his lips coyly.

"Why were you even in Tibet?" She couldn't understand it. Why did his man, the famous and handsome Bruce Wayne, travel the world to the most obscure places? The range of the people he knew just astounded her.

The billionaire shrugged. "Why not? I didn't have much of a reason to stay in Gotham back then. Traveling the world, gaining some perspective, it really helped me out back then. Learning meditation techniques also helped… ah… control my anger issues."

"You," she looked up and down him for a moment. "Anger issues. Really." The guy was so laid back most days she just couldn't see it. But he nodded and shrugged, settling his glass down.

"I really do have a bad temper," he admitted. "Explosive at times. Back when I was a kid, I got into fights all the time. I think by traveling the world I've managed to save a few people from myself."

"Pft. I hardly think you're dangerous." The idea was laughable. She'd seen this man flirt, been flirted with, and seen him play with his kids. Sure he was a large, muscular man, but he was a soft hearted teddy bear compared to the rest of the wife beaters she'd seen. "Intimidating from time to time, but dangerous? No."

Selina watched as pure mirth radiated from his smothered laugh. He was kind enough not to laugh in someone's face, but couldn't contain it all sometimes. Bruce set his glass down at last, still very amused. "If you insist."

"Oh come on," she persisted, "what's the worst you've done? Given Jason a spanking?"

"No no… Alfred does spankings, and washing out mouths." The man picked at what was left of his meal, trying to recall an incident to share. "He's very traditional. No, I think I've broken a few noses, arms, and I think one guy's collar bone back in school. Yet another reason I preferred private tutors for a long time."

"'Cause the other kids would tease you?" Breaking bones… Okay it was clear he hadn't hurt his kids so maybe his time with those monks really did pay off. A man that'd change, make himself change. Very promising.

"Sometimes. Other times it was because they were rubbing certain things in." He tried to keep up a confident air, like it didn't matter, but the woman could see the truth. He wasn't proud of it. Sure they were all kids at the time and young boys said hurtful things just to say them, but Bruce wasn't the kind to be proud of losing his temper like that. "I think the school was glad to be rid of me and all my personal drama.

"What about you?" He propped his chin on his hands and gave her a diverting smile. He wanted to change the subject. "I've told you about my temper, monks and Tibet, my time in Europe with race car drivers and the Lou, and of my first, disastrous, campout. Any wild stories of your youth?"

"Well…" Selina looked away slightly. She didn't really like talking about her past. Rough beginnings, in and out of the system, begging on the streets until she learned how to steal, taking down an abusive pimp before starting her run as Catwoman, most were events she avoid thinking about. Live in the moment, that was her motto. But this moment required a story from her past. And it had to be true. Bruce knew who she really was and had a good idea what her life was before he entered it. Actually getting to know each other like this was purely for pleasure, and she was enjoying herself a lot more than she first thought.

The guy was no Batman, but sometimes when he looked at her like this, she could almost pretend he was.

Finally she remembered something she could share. "Oh. There was this one time Holly and I were caught in the rain on our way to finding a new place. We ran across this old church and decided to take cover there. The place was recently cleaned up for some reason or another, and someone had left a bowl of fruit at the front of the room. We were starving and decided to try some."

"Don't tell me," Bruce edged on, "they were wax."

"They were wax!" She grinned impishly. "Holly took two bites of that apple before realizing it. Her coughing alerted the priest on duty there, who came running in to corner us. Would have been half way out the door if Holly didn't get so sick from it, but we ended up getting a free meal and night's rest out of it, so it wasn't that bad."

"Alls well that ends well." His smile was contagious, but a twitch of his eye alerted the cat-burglar that something was going on just behind her. "You can never predict what a priest will do to trespassers."

"Too true." Selina picked up her glass to take a drink, her meal nearly done as well. "There was this one time when—"

"BOO!"

"AAHH!" Instantly the woman jerked her hand back, splashing whoever tried to scare her. Normally she'd silently drive a hand into their neck for trying to get the better of her, but she had a fairly good idea who was behind her. Bruce would have leapt from his seat to help her if it were anyone potentially dangerous.

"Hey!" Some impish giggling followed the outcry, but not from the same mouth. She gave a heavy sigh before turning around in her chair to see who exactly was trying to scare her. Drenched in her drink was one Dick Grayson and one splattered Jason Todd. Timothy Drake and Cassandra Cain were giggling as they came closer with Alfred carrying Damian in the rear. Dick glared daggers at her while Jason was just annoyed.

"What was that for?!"

"Why did you try to scare me?" came Selina's smart reply.

"'Cause it's fun and Dick's jealous," was Jason's reasoning, grinning slyly at his brother. His other siblings giggled impishly.

Dick just turned his glare on him. "I am not jealous."

"Dick, seriously…" Bruce just put one hand on his face, shaking his head. He warned Selina beforehand of their tactics to scare his dates away. Dick was usually the ring leader in these attempts while the others were there for the ride. Usually they succeeded, but those who were really interested in Bruce, like Vicki Vale or Talia Head, stuck around until the man screwed up or something in their personal lives made things change. As the two of them weren't officially dating (they agreed to keep their relationship as casual as possible, open to anything), Selina wasn't really a target for the whole mob to attack. He hoped it'd save her from their antics and keep her from running off scared at the possibility of becoming their mother one day.

Thus far he only partly succeeded. Dick was typically alone in his efforts and Damian seemed to be the only one to accept her being with their father, thus far. She played with the toddler on occasion, always calling her the 'Pwetty Kitty'. The other three were on the fence when it came to her. They just liked pulling pranks.

"Well I'm not," the teenager stated indignantly. "Anyway, we're done. Can we go home now?"

"Take it no one wants dessert," the man commented, perking the younger kids' interest greatly.

"Who said that?!" Jason objected immediately.

Tim raised his hand excitedly. "I want chocolate mousse!"

"Death by chocolate cake, and ice cream," Cassandra piped in, grabbing a chair to join the couple.

"Ooo… I like the way this girl thinks." Selina gave her a wicked grin as the others started joining them around the table. The hostess who was supposed to be serving just the two was giving them bewildered and frustrated looks, letting Alfred give her a brief apology before passing Damian to his father. "Make that two death by chocolates."

"Three, with extra ice cream." Jason's impish grin bounced off of Dick, scowling bitterly and still standing where he was splashed. He just wanted to go home. "What, nothing for the circus kid?"

"Rather raid the cookie jar."

"Fine by me. Peg?" Bruce called over their waitress, despite the 'what the hey?' look on Dick's face. He earned it for being so negative about Selina. "Three Death by Chocolate cakes, two with ice cream, one chocolate mousse, some of those brownie bites, Devil's Food, and a cup of Earl Grey with raspberry scones."

"Some blueberry ones too," the teenager piped in before she could leave. He grabbed another chair from a neighboring table and placed it on the side of Bruce Damian was on, still smoldering at the lady. His glare didn't faze her though, it only made the game more interesting. Very interesting in deed.

* * *

A/N: like I said, teaser. Didn't really know how to end it. It's come to my attention that Dick and Selina did not get along for the longest time (though in Hush he was the one who told Bruce flat out to just tell her he liked her, and to shave first =P). There's two obvious reasons why they wouldn't: 1-she's a criminal, he's the justice serving cop, and 2-he doesn't want to see his daddy get taken away by her or hurt because of her so he gets in the way. Heard once that Tim and Selina had some issues too, but then I hear about Catlad... =S can people make up their minds? Whatever.

Oh, I have a whole childhood made up for Bruce in my head so any time I talk about it, it's from my head. Selina's is also a mishmash of what I've heard and read. Holly is one of the more consistent characters in her life so I added a mention of her for fun. I'm gonna be working on her for a bit cause I haven't yet so expect more batcat =P


	29. Demon Bites

Haven't had many fights between siblings lately so I thought it was about time. I dunno if Dami bites in the comics, but it is an online joke on DA. Pre-DITF

Tim-8 Damian-almost 2

* * *

**Demon Bites**

"DADDY!"

Bruce jerked from his seat in his study at the shout and accompanying crying. Crying became wails. Quickly he was out of his seat and running down the hall to the nursery where the sound was coming from. Those screams could only mean a few things. Top of the list: one of them was hurt. Next on the list: someone bad had come into the house.

"What happened?" he demanded in a worried tone, only to see Damian and Timmy on the floor with a bunch of wooden blocks surrounding them. Both of them were in tears, the older boy clutching his hand while the toddler merely yelled his lungs out. They both had good lungs.

The older pointed to the younger angrily. "DAMIAN BIT ME!"

Their father stared at the two of them for a moment, blinking, before face-palming and holding back a groan. It was going to be one of those. He gave a tired look to his sons just as the toddler slapped Tim's hand down, howling at him.

"DADDY! DAMIAN'S HITTING ME!"

"Next you'll be saying he's breathing your air." Exasperated, Bruce came inside and knelt next to them, barely dodging the blocks. He picked up Damian first, propping him up on his thigh and keeping an arm around him, before taking Tim's hand to inspect it. "Come here you. And let me see… Wow…"

The man's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. "That's a really strong bite there. Almost drew blood."

"It really hurts." Tim pouted, contorting his face best he could without crying.

"I bet it does. Why did he bite you?" Really, a near two year old biting an eight year old? There had to be a reason. Not like the two of them could wrestle.

"I dunno," the kid whined in a lower tone, his eyes not leaving his father's. No guilt on his face, so he didn't start it. "We were playing with blocks and he threw one into my building. I told him no and he did it again. I tried to make him stop and then he just bit me!"

"Ah." Bruce gave the toddler, finally quiet, a shrewd look. Damian just looked at him innocently, not really understanding everything around him. He probably didn't even know what he did was wrong. "Damian, we don't bite people. It's wrong and it hurts."

The toddler only pouted in response, looking down slightly before gripping his father's shirt. He wasn't really feeling any guilt, but he could sense when Daddy was upset with him. So he did what he did best: played cute.

Wasn't really working. Dick and Timmy played that card far too often in the past to really work on him anymore. "Now, go say sorry to your brother."

"Sowwy," Damian murmured, looking down. His older brother was still pouting, not quite believing him. That bite really hurt!

"Timmy…"

The kid gave a heavy sigh. Well for his dad's sake he could let it slide. "Okay. Apology accepted. Just don't bite me and don't destroy my buildings. Okay?"

Slowly the toddler nodded his consent. Bruce released the babe from his grasp and let him return to the blocks to play, proud of Tim. Not everyone could forgive their brother for something like this. It took a lot of courage and faith to do that. "Now remember to play nice, alright? I don't want to hear yelling unless it's important. And I certainly don't want any melt downs. Got it?"

"Uh huh." Tim rubbed his hand, hoping to bring down the pain so he could play again. His dad was so glad he was so low maintenance. Damian certainly wasn't. The toddler only nodded, mostly ignoring him so he could play more.

"Good. I still have some paperwork to do in my office. When I'm done I'll come in and play, okay?"

This gave him smiles. "Okay!" "Okey."

Bruce nodded, smiling slightly himself. He got off the ground and walked out the door to get back to work. "Be back soon."

He wasn't even ten feet from his office when he heard yelling again. "DADDY!"

The man just sighed. It was just going to be one of those days.

* * *

A/N: yeah, just one of those days. If you can name the obscure quote/paraphrase kudos to you! I love how kids can fight like cats and dogs one minute then be best friends the next. And little Damian biting Tim, I just thought it was appropriate.

Kinda sad thought that not many people read/reviewed the last chapter. =[ timing again? *sigh* oh well. TTFN!


	30. Kitty Sitting?

This is now officially my longest fanfic series and the one with the most comments. Thanks a billion! And keep them rolling! ^^V

Okay, people have been asking for this and I planned on this for a while. Thanks to some people's clear ups, I think I know how to run certain Robins' feelings about a certain feline. Promised I'd have more BatCat too right? Oh well. Enjoy! Post DITF, just barely.

Dick- 15 Cass-11 Tim-8 Damian-2

* * *

**Kitty's Sitting?**

Selina groaned within herself. What was she thinking accepting this job?! She was not a babysitter! Sure the diamond and platinum choker with the silver bell around her neck was more than suitable payment for her troubles (she'd been planning a heist to swipe something similar for about a week, but it was by far cheaper quality to this), but she wasn't a babysitter!

If Alfred wasn't in Chicago for a friend's funeral, Dick on a club field trip, and Bruce fulfilling a promised father-son night to Jason right then, she wouldn't have been called in. Apparently everyone else Bruce trusted with his kids who could handle them was unavailable. She was a last resort, and had to be heavily bribed. If she was stuck with all five of them instead of the last three, no amount of jewelry would have worked to keep her there. And it was a good thing two of them were calm and obedient.

She looked over to where Tim and Cass were playing checkers, the TV murmuring in the background. Selina had tried getting them to watch something, anything, until bedtime but it didn't work. Neither of them cared to watch anything, and Damian…

The woman jerked up from her chair in alarm. Where did that kid go?! "Damian?!" Both the kids on the floor playing looked up at her exclamation. Selina looked over to the two of them desperately. "Did you see where your brother went?"

They shook their heads, but neither of them seemed worried. "He probably went up."

"You mean upstairs?" Confusion ruled her face. Why didn't they just say so?

Tim shook his head, making a decisive move. "No up. He likes to climb things and pretend he's a cat stuck in a tree. He waits there until he's 'rescued', or falls asleep."

"Dick usually finds him," Cass stated as she tried to counter the move. They were pretty evenly match for a while, but Tim was starting to win. "Or Uncle Clark. He's lower to the ground when he wants Dad or Alfred to find him. Ah!" She made a move and grinned at her brother. "Take that!"

"Okay." And quickly he used his crowned piece to bounce around the entire board, taking out over half her remaining forces. "Your move."

"Where are his hiding places?" Selina demanded, putting a hand over their game. She needed to find the baby of the family. Bruce specifically said he had to remain in sight at all times because of his mother's connections. Apparently he was a target, despite having full custody. She didn't want the kid wandering off and getting himself snatched so easily. Besides, it was snowing outside. Couldn't have him catching cold on her watch.

Both kids looked at her again then away trying to remember. "Uh… Ledges next to the railings…"

"That alcove above the armory…"

"On top of the kitchen cupboards…"

"Garage tool shelf, but hasn't been in there since October…"

"Laundry room shelf…"

"Dad's dinosaur…"

"Some of the equipment in the gym but that's locked…"

"Or right there." Cass pointed to the ledge meant for potted plants, paintings or other kinds of displays. Instead of any of that, Selina spotted a black onsie clad Damian crawling around on the ledge. In one hand he had his favorite toy and the kid seemed perfectly at ease at that height. "Wow. He must really miss Dick."

"So long as he's not making a mess of things…" Tim grumbled, looking back to the game.

"How did he get up there?" The two kids shrugged to her dismay, Cass still watching while Tim seemed intent not to care. Seeing they were useless, another question posed itself. "Better yet, how do I get up there?"

"Banister, chandelier, nooks on wall…"

"Come to think of it, those nooks are pretty close together. He could have climbed up that way."

"Thanks for the input kiddos." Selina put a hand to her waist and pulled out the whip she kept wrapped around her at all times in case of an emergency. And this time she needed it. Quickly she darted forward, flung the end of it to a hanging bit she could grab before swinging on a lower display alcove. She then flipped over to the chandelier (she saw how tightly screwed it was into the ceiling and knew this was a route normally used around there. Scary) then used it's swinging momentum to launch her into the large one Damian was in.

Turned out he wasn't the only resident in that particular mini-cave. Paper airplanes, dusty toys, shoes, balls, all sorts of trinkets were up there. Even a baby blanket that had to be a recent addition. "Trying to get your blankie kiddo?"

Damian gave her a quick smile before toddling straight to her, clutching his Batkitty and ignoring the blanket all together. Selina shook her head before picking the kid up, grabbing the blanket, and using it to secure the kid onto her. She added her whip to the mix just in case, and to free up her hands. "Nice and tight?"

Damian just laughed at her. "Pwetty kitty fwies!"

"Birds fly. I pounce." Another stream of giggles exploded from the boy as she leapt back to the chandelier, swung back and forth a few times, then released herself into a roll. She opened herself up in time to land on the awaiting couch correctly, then promptly flopped backwards on it, letting the anxiety of having to do that with a kid strapped to her leave her. If this was a mom requirement, she was never having kids. The applause from the other two wasn't bad though.

"Ageen! Ageen!" the toddler squealed with delight.

"I don't think so." Not a chance on earth.

"Hey!" Tim jumped to his feet and darted over to where they were, glaring at Damian. "That's from my room! I've been looking everywhere for it!"

Damian blew him a raspberry and started to wriggle out of his bindings. Selina was beginning to stop him when she smelled something unpleasant. She gave the kid a shrewd glare. "I said no diapers."

The older boy jerked back instantly, throwing his hands up and away from them. "NOT IT!"

His sister rolled her eyes as she got up and went to the toddler. "It's not that hard Tim."

"_He_ doesn't bite you." Selina raised an amused eyebrow at the boy as Cassandra took the youngest away from her. The little genius gave the kid a weary look. "I can't play with him for more than ten minutes before he tries to hit me or bite me or kick me or scream at me!"

"Sounds tough," the woman admitted. She never had a problem playing with the kid, but he clearly liked her. She didn't do the baby-talk or baby-play other people did with him, so maybe that was why. But what she knew of Tim, he didn't do that either. So why was the little guy so foul tempered towards him?

The kid looked tired just thinking about it. "You have no idea…"

"He's just a baby," Cass insisted, taking him towards the nursery. "He doesn't know any better."

"Somehow I doubt it." Tim folded his arms sourly, glaring after the kid. "Little prince Damian. Nothing's been good since he came here. Ow!"

Selina had Karate chopped his head, giving him a mild glare. "Get over it kid. Everyone treats the youngest better than the older ones. When you're little, everyone's nicer to you. It's normal. It's when you get bigger that the world turns cruel. And if you're lucky, it's gradual. You don't get to see how bad it until later on.

"Let him be the baby for now." She untied the blanket and whip from around her as she finished up. "When he can make clear solid sentences, then you can give him hell. He'll know what he did wrong by then."

Tim just stared at her for a moment, taking everything in. Then, "You know, you broke rule 9 and kinda broke rule 6 right there."

The woman smirked at him, passing him the blanket to do whatever he wanted to with it. "Sue me. I'm a rule breaker. How about some cookies and chocolate milk? I'll show you how to sneak some without making that cookie jar go off."

This make the kid smirk mischievously. She knew there was an imp in this boy somewhere.

* * *

Selina rubbed her tired shoulder as she put the last of the night's mess away best she could. She didn't see where Tim got that board game earlier but everything else was where it belonged. Including a wiped down countertop from cookie munching and a full dishwasher from the dunking. They managed to keep the toddler away from the goodies, which pleased Tim to no end as he explained to her all the things the kid got away with. Maybe calling him 'Prince Damian' was the guy's way of being nice.

But now all three were asleep. Cass had taken care of Damian's personal needs before she gave the babe back to her to get him to sleep. Selina had an interesting time trying to rock the toddler to sleep (something Bruce told her to do) while the other two prepared themselves for bed. Neither of them needed help thankfully, but Tim had requested a bedtime story. When he gave her 'Narnia', she drew the line, saying Cassandra could pick. She ended up reading them 'The Giving Tree'. At least it was short, and by the end of it, Damian was out cold leaning against her chest. They were pretty easy to get in bed in the end.

With the manor now silent, and pretty much hers to do whatever with until Bruce's return in about an hour, she flopped into the most comfortable chair she could find and just sat. Being on the straight and narrow was exhausting! Taking care of three kids (though mostly well behaved) even more so. How did other women do it? Pretty payment or not, she was sorely tempted to go back to her thieving ways (not that she actually left them completely) over being a good little kitty taking care of kiddos and pushing papers. Bruce gave her a lot of freedom to be herself, but really… He better not be intending to make her their mom.

Okay, they were cute. She wasn't heartless, just free spirited. The collar around her neck better not be a leash.

The woman just sat in silence for fifteen minutes before hearing the front door open. Instantly she perked up and looked towards the main entrance. It was too soon for Bruce and Jason to return. Who could be… One hand went to her concealed whip as she stood up and gently prowled to see who arrived.

She almost ran straight into him. "Whoa! What are—"

Selina knew that voice. Both of them groped for a light switch and blinked at each other when they could see.

"Selina?" "Dick?" "What are you doing here?" Their voices were nearly in sync with each other, as was their confusion. The teen glared at her, hard. "You first. I live here."

She rolled her eyes, exasperated. The woman looked up and down him for a moment, seeing his bad and sleeping bag in his hands. Just got back from his trip? Wasn't that going on for another couple days? "Bruce asked me to babysit while he was out with Jason. Alfred went out of town for a funeral."

"Babysit?" Dick gaped at her for a moment, not seeing it in his eyes. He looked the same way she felt at first. "You? Why didn't he ask—"

"He said, and I quote, 'Everyone else I trust with them was unavailable'." Selina folded her arms giving him a shrewd look. The teen didn't like her much, she knew that, but if his dad approved of her watching his siblings, he really couldn't object could he? "Now, according to Bruce, you were supposed to be on this club trip of yours until Monday morning. What happened?"

He rolled his eyes, thinking the reason was stupid. "Bear sighting and some kind of cold snap. The forest rangers insisted we all go home a.s.a.p.. Looks like a blizzard's rolling in. The cabbie wasn't liking the roads coming here either."

"Pft. Who would." The guy strode past her, going to where his siblings were sleeping without another word. She was tempted to go back to her comfy chair but decided to follow him. She had a few questions to ask anyway, and Bruce wasn't always forthcoming. "Hey, I wanted to know, how has it been with… everyone since…"

Dick didn't say anything as he peaked into each of his siblings' rooms. Tension left his face after closing the nursery door and heading to his own room. He took a deep breath as he opened his door. "You can say it. Since Jason got beaten to a pulp."

"He seems much better now," she offered, trying to lighten things up. "I know I wasn't here when…"

"You ran." The acrobat turned a cold stare at her, maybe even colder than the wind outside. "When Joker beat up Jason and things got tense here, you ran."

"Instinct," she explained, looking away slightly. "I'm not very good with this stuff."

"Probably couldn't have helped anyway." His comment made the woman blink. Was that… forgiveness? Dick unzipped his duffle bag and started unpacking as he kept talking. "When Bruce is angry, he's angry. Nothing changes that. Only after Joker was taken care of could he move a little past it. He was so focused on Jason then he probably wouldn't have seen you. Taking off was probably the best option for you."

Selina knew the boy was reasoning things out as he spoke, partly hurt by her actions even though she did nothing really wrong. It must have been hard on him, harder than he'd admit. Dick wasn't the normal irresponsible teenager people expected him to be. He probably did everything he could to keep their family together, alone. She could have stuck around to help, but in honesty, her family or friend of family skills sucked.

"You could have used a bit more support. Heard in the grapevine you're not allowed to date."

"It's none of your business." He put away his unused clothes, not looking at her.

"You're right, it's not." She leaned against his door frame, wondering when he'd return to the slightly jealous, not really angsty teenager who'd interfere with her dates with Bruce. She missed teasing that kid. This was a kid who was forced to grow up a bit since they last met. "Your old man made it so I didn't have to be part of his business, open ended. I can leave at any time."

"Just like the others."

That made her blink. Not the comment, but the bitter tone in it. The late hour had brought it out of the boy. "Pardon?"

"Do you have any idea how many women Bruce has liked? Honestly liked?" Dick turned a pained, frustrated glare on her. "Not many. Sure he goes on dates all the time, but most don't stick. Those that do…"

He looked away, pained at the memory. It almost seemed like he was looking through walls, towards the nursery. Vaguely Selina remembered hearing Bruce talk about Damian's mother, the woman he nearly married. He didn't like talking about her, lingering feelings. "Honestly I don't think you could have helped with Jason, but at the least you could have calmed Bruce down. But you left.

"If you're just going to leave him too, just leave him. Don't drag it on. Don't be like the others." He shook his head swallowing something in his throat. "I don't like seeing him hurt like that."

Selina stared at him in surprise. So that was it. Dick was just trying to protect his father. He cared too much to see him hurt by any woman again. It made her smirk in understanding. "I see. I have no intention of hurting him Dick. He's a good man. I don't meet many of those who'll let me be myself."

"Hfm. I bet." He gave her a stern glare, driving what he had to say home. "If you hurt him, or anyone else in this family, I will make sure you are taken in by the best men out there who'll never let you see the light of day again."

"Is that a threat?" She took a graceful step out of his doorway. There was the boy she knew. Amusement dripped from her voice. This kid could give Batman a run for his money if given the chance. Oh how she missed that man.

"It's a promise." Firm and unmoving. This kid could be a big time cop one day. Commissioner if he kept that glare up.

"I'm looking forward to it." Her joke must have set him over the edge, because he nearly slammed the door closed in her face as a response. She chuckled to herself before adding in a low tone, "Bruce is a big boy. He can handle himself sweet cheeks."

Laughing to herself, almost fondly, she went back to her favorite chair to wait for the man of the house to come home at last. That young man was quite cute with his threat. No doubt he could and would pull through on it, but she just didn't see her causing that much damage to the once infamous playboy. Bruce could take care of himself, and they had a casual relationship, nothing too serious. They kept it without bounds for a reason, so either could leave without any damage and come back without any changes. Dick really needed to grow up in the romance department.

It wasn't another ten minutes though until she heard the door leading from the garage open. Selina raised an eyebrow at the timing but got up to meet them anyway. She even turned on a light so they could see clearly to get to their rooms. Turned out Bruce was carrying Jason like a koala, the kid asleep on his shoulder. She shook her head. "Does anyone fall asleep in their beds in this house?"

The man shrugged, motioning down the hallway for some help with the doors. "Fell asleep in the car. He hasn't slept much lately. Mind getting his door? Two down and across from Timmy's. Tim's."

The quick correction made her snicker. He was still getting used to changes in nicknames. Easily she did as he asked, watching him quickly change his boy's clothes and tuck him in bed with practiced precision. He had some trouble, seeing as the boy was much larger than the others, but Bruce knew what he was doing. Once he was sure the kid was warm enough, he left the room, closing the door gently.

"Any trouble with the others?" Bruce asked at a whisper.

"Not really." She looked down the hallway where the others slept. "Damian likes to climb into high places doesn't he?"

"Hm. Unfortunately. Should have warned you about that."

"Trolls Tim too."

"Trolls?" The man looked at her with confusion. It was a new term to him,

"Mess with his head, pulls pranks, not always nice but not in a mean way."

"Ah." He shook his head in defeat. "I think of it as just sibling rivalry. Did he bite Tim?"

"No, took his blanket." She smirked. "It's in the laundry now. Oh, and Dick's home."

"Dick." He blinked a few times, surprised. "Why would he be—"

"Forest rangers forced them home apparently," Selina looked towards a nearby window. "Said there was a blizzard coming in or something like that. Bears were mentioned."

"Blizzard I can believe. It's why we're back earlier than intended." Bruce rubbed his sore neck for a moment. "Jason was getting really cold and the radio suggested going back inside. We obeyed."

"Good idea." She turned towards the main part of the building where her things were. "I should probably head home now, before it gets worse."

"Or you could stay the night." Selina looked at the man trying to be casual with the offer. "Probably safer if you do anyway, what with the weather being what it is. There's quite a few empty rooms here after all. You can pick any room you like."

"_Any_ room?" Both their lips twitched in hidden amusement. One thing she loved about this man was how he could banter. And he loved a good opponent as well.

"Well, certainly not any the ones the children occupy, and definitely not Alfred's. He has kittens every time someone else goes in it." He gave her a sly smile, one she certainly enjoyed seeing. "I make some very good toaster waffles."

That won him a laugh. Slowly she slinked her arms around his neck, closing the distance between them. "Do I get breakfast in bed?"

"No promises." His hands slid around her waist in response.

"Well, how can I say no to that?" Their noses were practically touching. "You pick the room. But remember, I'm not doing diapers."

* * *

A/N: So... uh... yeah... Selina stayed the night. Think whatever you will about that. In the practical sense, she should stay because of the blizzard, that's all.

Erm, anyway, so here we have Selina 'bonding' with the batkids. Tim and Dami more than the others, but at least she now clearly knows why Dick's so hostile towards her. He's trying to protect Bruce from getting hurt again. I'm betting Talia left a big scar on his heart when she left him, twisting it badly when he found out the truth about Dami. Other girls, like I dunno, Vikki Vale or some other woman he really liked and had to leave or was left by, also left their marks. Dick doesn't like seeing Bruce hurt, and who could blame him. Bruce is, and always will be, both a dad and big brother to Dick. Seeing him get hurt really hurts him. Hence why he scares girls away and doesn't usually make nice with them. Usually. I plan on changing Dick's tune about Selina one day.

As for where Selina was during the DITF arch, just not there. Until Joker was caught, she didn't think it'd be good to be near the Waynes. they were all way too tense and she could sense things were going to break. Once he was gone, she came back, peaking into their lives slowly before really coming back into Bruce's line of sight. She felt a little guilty for leaving, especially seeing what Dick's going through, so her leaving again without more solid reasoning is going to come up later.

Enough selina talk. I tired. Hope this holds you over until the next one! ^^V


	31. A Bird and A Cat Walk On A Ledge

Yet another Selina fic! I've got one more for her stocked up but wanted to do this one first. I've had to look up other fics to verify my facts here and frankly this should be the second half of a story, but I liked this part more so I wrote it first. The first part, well, I'll get to that later. This is build up to, and part of, a huge turning point in their world. Can you guess what?

Dick-16

* * *

**A Bird and A Cat Walk On A Ledge**

"Why are you here?" Dick glared over the city while sitting on his favorite perch on Wayne Tower. Only the observation deck or rooftop access could reach it. Usually the only company he'd get there was the birds, the wind, a few bugs and bats if he was out there too late. Never a person.

Until that day. "Curiosity. What's with you kids and impossibly high places?"

"Bruce can't reach them." He glanced back to the lady behind him and scowled. "Did he send you after me?"

"No one sends me anywhere." Selina almost strolled along the ledge coming towards him. "You two shouting is what—"

"Stop. Stay where you are." The teen turned around, glaring slightly at her. His eyes looked around after a moment, possibly for an alternate route. "If you get too close you'll scare them away from their nest and they'll never come back."

"Nest? Them?" The guy inclined his head towards a barely concealed, beautiful bird's nest between the wings of a nearby gargoyle. Two robins were resting on some blue speckled eggs inside. She blinked in surprise. "Oh."

"A few soft steps left and careful on the pass," Dick suggested. "Or you could turn around."

"Kitty isn't satisfied yet." She did as he said, raising an eyebrow at the birds' home. "Pretty nest."

"I like to leave yard and ribbons for them on different gargoyles." He inclined his head another direction to the other statues. "There's a family of swallows over that way, and there were some cardinals here last year."

"Come up here a lot?" She was nearly next to his crouching frame, trying to see what he saw.

The teen shrugged, looking over the city's horizon. "Lately. Come up here when I don't want to go home yet."

"Not go home with Bruce that is." Her statement received no answer. She shook her head. "Never thought I'd hear you yelling at him, especially through the building. What was that fight about?"

"None of your business." Dick lodged his chin into his arms, resting them on his knees. He did not want to talk.

"You're right. It isn't." Selina looked over him, bitter and somewhat dejected. The fight must have hurt him pretty badly, but not enough to call it quits. That watch of his was still on and intact. "Which makes me the perfect person to rant to."

He jerked back, glaring confusion at her. "You?"

"Why not?"

"'Cause you're dating him!"

"Doesn't mean I agree with everything he does. And besides," She gave him a coy smile, "our open ended relationship isn't what I call 'dating'."

He was clearly not impressed. "Friends with benefits then?"

"Oh you know about that?" He gave her his usual glare, making her grin even more. That was the boy she knew. "Well, there's a lot more benefits than just that sweet cheeks. He doesn't control me. No ring, no commitment. Don't even have to care.

"But I am curious." The lady cocked her head at him, taking him in. "You usually don't start fights. Occasionally you have them, but never with Bruce. Usually Jason if I have my information right. The two of you just banter, teasing each other. So, your shouting…"

He looked further away from her, scowling at no one now. Dick was silent for a minute or so before talking to her. "He won't let me go out on dates."

She blinked at him. "What?"

"That's what the fight was about." He was still angry about it. "He found out about my girlfriend and freaked."

"Seriously?" That was anticlimactic.

"I mean, I'm sixteen! I'm a junior in high school and get hit on my student teachers and some of the new interns here! I think I'm doing a good job not going with any of them. I'm not an incorrigible flirt like Bruce is," Selina had to give a nod to that. She'd seen him at it, "and I take all those girls I dated seriously!"

"Wait, you've been dating?" Dick jerked an annoyed glare at her, mentally screaming 'NO DUH!'. "How long? And how many girls?"

"Lost count." He shook his head. "Very few of them went anywhere. I think I was fourteen the first time. The longest I dated most of them was a month, and they were the ones who asked me out."

"Huh. Regular playboy."

"It was only to get them to leave me alone," he insisted. The teen fidgeted a bit on his perch. Well that wasn't entirely true. "Some of them were nice, and a few of them wanted to get their boyfriends jealous…"

"Mr. Popularity is it?" Selina smirked at the idea, leaning against an empty gargoyle. Well he would be, being the rich, athletic pretty boy he was, girls would be flocking all over him.

"Unfortunately." His eyes returned to the sky scape. "It's frustrating when every other person either wants to be in my life or end it. So I went on one date with those girls to get their fantasies over with then moved on. A few of them are still friends of mine. Played wingman to one or two even."

"And you've been doing this for two years. Behind Bruce's back." Now she was seeing where the fight started from.

"Not like he'd approve anyway," Dick growled, glaring even more at the skyline. "He flipped when I told him I was going out the first time. Said I was too young. Said he didn't know who that girl was and that it was too dangerous. I had to sneak out and got grounded for a month when he found me that night. Haven't talked to him about it since."

"And now he's found out about your girlfriends."

"_Girlfriend._" A pout came out. "Babs and I've been going steady for the past three months. Dunno how he found out… I mean…" He looked at her in complete honesty for the first time. "I've been crazy about her for years, been friends longer. He should have suspected something years ago, but when we're actually together he just…"

Dick ran a hand through his hair. This really shouldn't be so complicated. "He brought her dad in on it! Both of them are against us dating."

"Why? Is he a company rival?" Selina couldn't help but be mildly amused by this. "I don't remember hearing about any corporate daughters around your age."

He rolled his eyes. "No. Family friend. It isn't the who apparently. It's because we're 'too young'. And something about me being jailbait."

"Oh. So she's an older woman." A grin grew across her face, aggravating the kid.

"She's eighteen, that's all!" The aerialist turned completely towards her, ignoring the ledge he was on as he tried to convince her. "I've known her almost as long as I've known Bruce. She's always been in the grade above mine and really, two years isn't an age gap!"

"Is she pretty?" Selina just had to know.

A slight loving smile crossed his face. "Gorgeous."

"Pregnant?" she teased.

"NO!" His immediate denial could only be matched by his infuriated face.

"Just checking." Now she was laughing.

The teen started to turn red. "This isn't funny Selina!"

"Oh no, it's hysterical." She tried not laughing for a moment but it didn't work. "You've dated so many girls and been going steady with one girl you've loved since… what, elementary school? And you still have your V-card!" Dick's face became crimson at the implications, not liking her thought processes. "I'd think your dads would be ecstatic you two haven't taken it to the next level."

"It's not about that!" His relationship with Barbara meant too much to him to focus only on the physical side. "I—"

"You're right, it's not." She raised her hand to quiet him. "But it is a factor, one you have to keep in mind. Bruce and her dad have thought of it and they're trying to stop the two of you from making a huge mistake. That's all."

"That might be true for her but not for me!"

"What makes you the exception?" She smirked, seeing his frustration and the parents' position at the same time. "It's hard to believe with that many girls in your past you haven't even thought about it."

He stopped, speechless for a moment before glaring death upon her. It didn't faze her though; Batman's looks still gave crooks nightmares, and she liked it. Dick started to struggle to his feet. The ledge was getting a bit crowded. "You're just like them, making assumptions before even considering—"

"I was thirteen."

That stopped him. The way she looked at him, he knew she wasn't lying. "On my own and starving. It was before I learned how to really pull a heist. I didn't just become who I am all the sudden you know. I had to learn the hard way. I didn't have boyfriends growing up. Didn't have anyone to tell me no, or to care if I lived or died because of who I was with. It was all about survival. You should be glad they care enough to say no."

"But we aren't…" The young man had lost his anger hearing her story. What kind of life did she lead?

"I know. And I also know you're not the kind of guy who'd throw it all away over some silly little thing that may not pan out. You care too much." Selina looked out over the skyline, remembering her childhood and her wild years. She was still a wild one, but now she knew what she was doing. She wished she had the kind of sense this boy had back then. "But so do they. That's why they're butting in. They're trying to protect you from yourself."

"I don't need protection," he mumbled halfheartedly. He settled back on his perch, nearly in the same position she found him in. Some guilt and compassion played across his face he tried to keep stony. Never was good at hiding his feelings.

"Tell them that." She scratched her neck before suppressing a shiver from the wind. It was getting late. "Like they said, you're jailbait. Some people can't see when someone's grown up. Sounds to me like Bruce can't let you go if it's really the dating thing that's the problem."

"Exactly!" Relief flooded Dick's face as he straightened and looked at her. "He still won't let me babysit the others and I always have to have supervision on trips. Dating's completely out of the question even if he did give me those rules back then."

"Oh great, more rules." Selina rolled her eyes at the idea. The man lived for them. And the teen agreed with her. "Well I say screw whatever rules he's got about dating or whatever is completely unreasonable. You're nearly a grown man. You should be dating and he needs to get past it. If he can't get used to you growing up, then he's doomed. Kids don't stay kids forever and you're just the first in line."

"Seriously?" He started to gape at her in disbelief. "You really think so?"

"Sure I think so. Wouldn't say it if I didn't. It's your life," a smirk came back to her face, "live it. Bruce can't control you, and I certainly can't. Bet he's pretty upset you kept it hidden from him instead of had it out in the open though."

"He didn't exactly leave me much choice." A relieved smile escaped his features. "You should have seen his face when I tried to go on my first date."

"That must have been fun." She shivered again. "I don't know about you, but I'm getting cold. Coffee? There's this great café down the street."

"Alfred doesn't like us drinking coffee," Dick answered hesitantly.

She shrugged, looking around for a moment. "I don't see him around. If you want to keep obeying their little rules blocking you from growing up, that's your business. I'm sure they've got cocoa or tea there if that's your preference."

As Selina pushed away from the statue behind her, the teen jumped to his feet. "This way," he ordered. "The route's a bit riskier, but it won't disturb any nests."

"I love a good risk." Their eyes met and both of them smirked knowingly. That was one thing they both had in common.

* * *

Bruce looked from his phone to the coffee shop window, blinking in surprise at what he saw. Dick's signal came from it and he could now see him, but it was hard to believe he was sitting there, laughing, straight across from Selina. They looked like they were having a good time too. Alfred had taken Damian and the others home over an hour ago and he was busy tracking down a boy he had argued with earlier that afternoon. They still had to finish their talk.

And yet seeing both his eldest and his maybe-girlfriend actually getting along for once, he couldn't keep his planned speech straight in his head. What were they laughing about?

As soon as he was in the shop, he knew exactly what. Him. "—Tore them so badly, you could swear the mob got to him and tried dragging him through the street behind a car."

Selina's feminine laugh rang through the air, getting quite a few smiles from people. Dick's was near music compared to his angry shouts at him earlier. "But did he think of that? Nope! First thing he did was go after Jason and look him over for injuries. A few scrapes and a fractured arm. And guess who was the one crying like a baby."

"Seriously?!" They laughed even more, barely keeping their cups still. "Never knew he had that much of a sensitive side."

"Yeah well," some affection came from the teen's voice as he explained, "Bruce is really big on family. Since his parents' died, he can't stand anyone hurting those he cares about. Both Alfred and Leslie could tell you how he acted when one of them got hurt. Apparently there was one time Alfie got sick and Bruce tried to take care of him. Disaster. Alfred does not take sick days."

He shook his head, remembering things fondly. "Anyway, after that one time with Jason, I took it upon myself to teach Cass and Tim how to ride bikes. Went much smoother I think."

"Not a very good teacher is he?"

"Oh he's great when it comes to martial arts, strategy, computers, and other things, but if it's something he can't control, like a bicycle or a car," Dick grinned, "he freaks out. Everything has to be in control, no surprises he can't handle. Even has a contingency plan in case Superman somehow turns evil and tries to kill all of us."

"That's ridiculous. Why would he go after you guys?"

"I know right?" They chuckled at the man's expense, shaking their heads. "Some days I have no idea what's going through his head. Others, I know so well it's scary."

"Know the feeling. But," she grinned slyly, "not knowing is half the fun." Selina spotted Bruce standing near the door. "So, how long are you going to ignore your phone?"

"As long as it takes for Bruce to stop waiting back there and actually admit he's listening in." Both adults rolled their eyes, the woman chuckling lightly as the man approached them. Dick grinned impishly, winking at her. "Saw him through the window."

"Didn't show it."

"Why should he spoil all the fun?" He gave Bruce a slightly strained smile as he came up. "Hello warden. How can I help you this fine night?"

"Cute." He gave his son a mild glare before looking over to Selina. "Thank you for keeping an eye on him."

"Who said I was doing that?" She gave him a reproving smile, shaking her head. "I was just satisfying my curiosity and learning a few of your dirty little secrets, warden."

"I'm not—"

"Seriously, he's sixteen. He can make his own decisions." She waved over a waitress. "Check please. This kind, fair, understanding man will be paying for us."

"Selina—"

"Sounds fair," Dick agreed, getting up at the same time as his companion was. "We were going to return to the office when we were done and split the check, but well you're here and the money's really coming from you so," he grinned at him impishly, "let's just skip the middlemen shall we?"

"That was Leslie Thompkins from the free clinic on Crime Alley you were talking about right?" Bruce nearly had a heart attack at the mention of the family doctor who had a hand in raising him, but the check being handed to him brought him back to reality, a little.

"Yep." They were still ignoring the man as they started moving towards the door. Bruce had to rush paying the check to follow. What were they talking about for so long? "She's got some great stories, that's if you can stand hospitals and get her to admit she knows us."

"Don't like hospitals?"

"Hate them. Tim's not fond of them either, but mostly because he hates getting shots."

"Who knew." They were practically out the door before Bruce caught up to them. Selina gave him a swift, sweet smile and a peck on the cheek before he could say a single word to her. "Thanks for the coffee big guy. I'll be seeing you tomorrow. Later sweet cheeks."

"Later." The man gaped at her then at Dick who casually started walking towards Wayne Tower once more, where he assumed the car would be. "Alfred have dinner ready?"

"What… where… Where have you been all evening?" He stormed after his adoptive son, not sure what was going through his head. Didn't Selina and Dick have some kind of rivalry going on? Last he checked they didn't get along.

"Where do you think?" the teen waved his hand with his watch, making it clear he didn't go off the grid. "You don't have to ask every single time."

"You should have told me you were heading out," the CEO insisted. "You could have been—"

"I can take care of myself." He spotted the car and strode over to it, trying to end the discussion.

"Dick—"

"Look," the teen bout faced, glaring slightly, "it's late, we're both hungry and neither of us can seem to agree on _that_. You think one way, I think another. For now, can we just agree to disagree and not talk about it?"

"It's not that simple." He had to get the kid to understand. Dick just didn't see—

"Actually it is. You're not ready for me to be dating. I see it now." Dick took a step towards his father figure, a slight edge to his gaze. "But I'm not giving up. I'll prove it to you. You and Commissioner Gordon. I'm serious about Barbara and I'm not going to do anything to screw it up. You may not be ready, but I am."

"Dick you're too young." That was the main issue. He was too young to even look at girls! Barbara Gordon wasn't the issue (frankly he was relieved it was her and not some strange girl he never heard of). It was the boy's age. Too young!

But the boy just rolled his eyes and went to the passenger side of the car. "Whatever. Let's just get home. I need some serious food in my stomach."

"Didn't have any in the café?" Just what did those two do there?

A slight smirk grew on the teen's face. "No, just coffee."

* * *

A/N: okay, whenever me and my siblings were upset with our parents or when they restricted us (I was actually a very obedient child, who didn't get caught when I wasn't) we called them our wardens. Sometimes they were parole officers. Side joke.

Now this is clearly a build up to the 'argument' which I think is important in their world. I know some people hate it when Dick and Bruce didn't get along, but I think it's important. Bruce is very possessive and hesitant to let anyone grow up, so the oldest (Dick) is sure to have the hardest time trying to get him to let him go. Having Dick date for two years without Bruce knowing was something I started in 'Big Brother's Privilege' with Jason using said dates as blackmail on him. Other rules were stated in 'The Question'. Yes Dick's been flirting at parties not long beforehand, but I'd think Bruce wouldn't have noticed with Jason's state at that point or thought it was good practice for the future. I know I should have more Barbara involvement to make this all workout, but I haven't figured out any Babs/Dick stories yet. Babs/Cass stories would be good too, all things considered. Ideas? Only idea I've got is when Bruce finds out about them.

As for Selina being the one to help Dick out here, I thought it was logical. She's curious, goes out on a ledge after him, and even asks why the high places. Sure Batman could make it there, but Bruce Wayne? heh, that was fun. I kinda gave Selina a tragic backstory that's a mixture of different ones I've heard about for her, so please don't bite me for what I did to her. 3X nothing's set in stone with her in DC.

I think I've covered everything. Til the next one!


	32. Kitten Napped

I know I promised the before story to the previous chapter, but that's still in the works and I need to finish the next chapter of 'Fixing Damian' right now. So another Selina story! With the beginnings of someone that kinda will and won't be appearing later. =P This takes place after Dick's senior year (yes he's 16) starts while his dating problems/the argument build up was during the last month of his junior year. Laying out the timeline for ya, 'cause soon I think it's gonna get messy.

Dick-16 Tim-9

* * *

**Kitten Napped**

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE'S MISSING?!"

Selina's ears perked at the exclamation through the doors. Earlier on her way to the copier she saw an officer come in with someone she spotted in the missing person's unit of Gotham PD. She made herself scarce just in case but couldn't help but to reappear from her hidey hole at Bruce's shouting. She never heard him get that loud. Ever.

Something was definitely wrong, especially when Bruce kept shouting about the policeman's incompetence. "TIM'S NINE YEARS OLD! HE'S OBEDIENT, CAREFUL, AND DOESN'T RUN OFF!"

It was only the whining of his toddler that stopped his shouting. And without that, Selina had to come right up to the door to satisfy her curiosity. What she heard she didn't make her feel any better. "I assure you Mr. Wayne, we're doing everything we can to find your son."

"He shouldn't be missing in the first place!" Another whine from Damian made him drop his voice again. She should hear him take a breath to calm him down. He didn't like scaring his children. "That watch he wears, it doubles as a tracking device. He never takes it off, and _you_ have it in _your_ hands right now. Why did he take it off?"

"Security protocols required all technology to be removed while in the building and held at the front desk until the end of the tour." That would be the officer in charge. Moron.

"And just why is a watch included in this?"

"Mr. Luthor's policies," she could hear Bruce's frustrated huff there, "are for the safety of the company's experiments and watches have been used as recording devices in the past by spies."

"By nine year old spies on field trips?!"

"Luthor's policies, no one's excluded."

"And he's not being excluded from the suspect list, right? It was his building and he's been trying to get Timothy for years."

"Care to explain that accusation Mr. Wayne?"

Even this perked Selina's interest more, making her lean further in to hear all the juicy details. Bruce was silent for a moment before explaining. "Timothy Drake is the sole heir to Drake Industries after his father's murder. Until he's of legal age to take active control of his company, I hold onto his shares and keep him informed of the board's progress."

"So he's a high profile target in for a lot more money when he's all grown up. What does that have to do with Luthor?"

The man took another deep breath before continuing. "A few years back Luthor tried to buy out DI, particularly the medical department. Tim was five and refused. Since then Luthor has periodically tried to get in contact with Tim alone to try and convince him otherwise. I have a friend in legal who's kept an eye on all the paperwork involving my children and someone's tried to tamper with Tim's twice."

"Do you have proof of him tampering?"

A pause. "No. Just suspicions."

'_Pretty good ones if I know right._' Anyone who could place Selina Kyle while under an assumed name as Catwoman and get a professional profile and rap sheet on her, had every right in the world in her mind to assume Lex was behind those attempts. She heard the kids and Bruce groan about Luthor before, whenever the man's name came up (very rare), and each time it was clear they didn't like him.

"Then Mr. Luthor is not a suspect."

"He should be a person of interest at the very least. Tim did disappear in his building, while he was in there. Have you searched the entire building?"

"Mr. Wayne, I assure you, we have searched the entire complex, head to toe. Your son isn't in there. Now, can you think of anyone else who would be interested in taking your son? Or where your son would run off to?"

"I'm telling you he wouldn't—"

"Ms. Barr! Eavesdropping is extremely impolite!" Selina jerked around to see Bruce's personal secretary (and probation officer), Mrs. Dalton, catching her in the act of snooping. Her glare reminded her too much of those teaching nuns she dodged while in the system as a kid. "Don't you have something else to attend to?"

For a long moment the woman debated giving her a snide comment and running out, but instead smiled sheepishly, keeping in her assumed name's character as best she could. "Sorry ma'am. I just couldn't help it. You know I like to keep appraised of Bruce's... I mean Mr. Wayne's activities. And hearing the shouting I couldn't help but to…"

The old lady's eyes softened at this, looking down. She heard the yelling too, and she knew Tim longer than anyone else on that floor. Of course she was concerned. And the lady certainly wasn't blind. 'Elva Barr' was frequently called to Mr. Wayne's office to run errands and the two always flirted. As Bruce's unofficial relationship with Selina Kyle had nothing to do with the work place, no one else knew the truth behind her interest.

"I understand dear. But it's best to just let the authorities do their job. Now off you go."

Selina let herself be shooed out of the room and off the floor, but didn't return to her division like expected. Her work day was nearly over anyway, and personally she liked Tim. He was sensible and easy to deal with in comparison to other children she met. She liked him enough to teach him how to raid the noisy cookie jar the one time she took care of the Wayne kids at the manor. He managed to use those skills at the office to filch from Mrs. Dalton's candy bowl a few times, sharing some with her. Smart and sneaky. Sure he could be obedient, but when he broke rules, he didn't get caught. Her kind of boy. And if Luthor, a slime ball she had the displeasure of dealing with once or twice before, really was interested in him to the point of kidnapping, she was certainly not going to let the cue ball win.

* * *

Tim leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling, bored. The paralyzing fear of being kidnapped wore off after the first dozen times or so. Frankly, all he was now was bored. Well, he was a little scared. They made him take off his watch at the door along with his cellphone when they came into Lex Towers for that field trip. Cass wasn't with him this time because it was for his computer club. Furthermore, Tim couldn't remember how he got to where he was. He was leaving the group to go to the bathroom when someone decided to grab him from behind and jabbed him with a sedative. Then they put a bag over his head. That was all he could remember before waking in in this place.

It was a white wash room, almost sterile, with a toilet in one corner and a bed in the other. Currently they had him handcuffed to a metal chair in the center of the room, both hands separately. Whoever nabbed him this time did their homework. It was taking longer than he liked to get out of those cuffs, and he was really proud of his escapes.

"I would advise against struggling Mr. Drake," a voice said over an intercom connected to that room. Tim just gave the speaker a 'go away' glare before completely ignoring it. "You're going to be with us for some time."

"Uh huh."

"You'll learn to love it here."

"Uh huh."

"You will learn to accept your destiny."

"Uh huh."

"And you will learn to call me Father."

"Uh huh."

Completely ignoring the guy. He was almost through with one of the locks. Looked like Jason's game of 'escape the closet' really was more helpful than he initially gave him credit for. At least this time he wasn't being hanged by some crudely made chains. Handcuffs were far easier to deal with in compare to multi-pin locks. Even with one hand working each one.

"Are you paying attention?"

"Uh huh."

"Look at me when I'm talking to you!"

"Uh huh." One cuff undone. And soon the other one would be too.

"Just who do you think you're talking to?"

"Uh huh." Tim blinked and cocked his head curiously. "Wait… is that supposed to be a trick question? Are you playing some kind of game? Cause if you wanted to play games, you should have grabbed Dick. Or Jay. Either or. No, Dick. You're more likely to live then."

"Why you little—" There was some crashing going on outside the room's door. And shouting. Then gunfire. More shouting. The kid smirked.

"Well, sounds like my cue to go." He slipped his hands out of their bindings and walked straight over to the toilet in the corner. They had nabbed him before going after all. "If you'd like to set up an appointment for next time, call my lawyer."

No response from the intercom, and he didn't expect one. Usually when one of the Leaguers (probably Superman this time considering the circumstances, or Manhunter) popped up for a rescue, it was every thug and villain for themselves. All he had to do was wait and he'd be rescued, same as always. It'd just faster and a surer thing if he had his watch or phone. So he relieved himself then started picking at the room, bored again.

Not for long though. The door keeping him in (one sided lock, he couldn't pick it if he tried) shot open not too far away. Tim smiled briefly, thinking it was one of the League or his dad again, but stopped when a bulky thug armed to the teeth charged in to grab him. This was not a new Leaguer and never would be. They hated guns. "Time to get going kid."

"What's the password." The thug didn't even stop to attempt answering that riddle and just made a grab for him. Quickly the kid dodged the man's hands and maneuvered around him to run out the door as fast as possible. Alarms were screaming around his head and he wasn't about to let himself get grabbed again. But no sooner was he out the cell door was he grabbed harshly by another thug, this one leaner but still heavily armed. His hands reminded him of when he was first nabbed. Had to be the same guy.

"Not so fast kid." His grip was really tight, bruising the boy a bit. Fear and panic reached up his throat at his voice. Definitely the same guy.

"Let go!" Tim drove his foot into the man's knee, twisting his arm out of his grip before running again, towards the sounds of fighting. There had to be someone coming for him. There had to be! "Help! Help! Kidnappers! He—"

"Shut up!" The first thug pulled him back by his collar, wrapping an arm around his middle and picking him up to stop him from running anymore. One large hand covered his mouth and tried for his nose, in hopes to make him pass out. The kid wasn't going anywhere.

But he didn't know Tim had been taken like this over two dozen times. Instinctively he threw his head back into the man's nose in hopes to break it, at the same time he tried driving his elbow into the softer portions of the guy's chest. His legs continued to flail beneath him, aiming backwards as much as possible in hopes to hit some vital and painful locations. He even opened his mouth, making indistinct loud noises while trying to either lick the guy's hand or bite it. Anything to make the grip loosen enough for him to run.

Unfortunately the guy was big and well armored. Tim hindered his progress but did not stop the thugs from turning about and going as far away from the fight as possible. They weren't taking any chances of being found. Whoever their boss was (and it was clear to the kid they had a boss) he wasn't an idiot by hiring these guys. Must be rich.

"Stop squirming you brat," the large thug ordered as they ran through the third hallway. Thug two was opening a special computerized lock before them, peaking out before ushering them forward. They were coming into a large garage, possibly one of the hangars at an airfield or the warehouse part of a store. The famous backroom for storage, loading and unloading. At least it wasn't a cliché warehouse.

'_Not in your life!_' Tim screamed mentally while still trying to wriggle in his grip. They hadn't left Gotham yet. So long as he was in Gotham he knew he'd be found. Metropolis was a good chance of being found too, but not near as high. His chances of escape and/or retrieval went down considerably after he left the state. He had to get away, now.

Using all his energy, the boy turned and writhed against the man's body, kicking right between gaps in the man's armor. The well done blows made the giant yelp in pain and drop the kid. Quickly Tim landed on his feet, swiping a kick into his Achilles to force the man to the earth before rolling away. The other thug made a rush for him but Tim managed to grab a stray crowbar and swing it at him, severely bruising the guy's wrist. The second thug's cry of pain masked the oncoming approach of the larger one, who grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, took the crowbar, then threw the kid hard to the ground just a few feet away. Tim could feel something give in his body as he tried to take the throw, but he didn't quite manage it. He couldn't recover fast enough to run away from the oncoming giant.

"That's enough you little brat!" He raised the crowbar over his head, ready to beat down on the kid. Terrified now, Tim shook and watched helplessly as he approached. One part of him wondered if this was how Jason felt when Joker was coming at him while the other part of him, the larger part, went into a blind panic.

'_I am going to die. I am going to die._'

The arm came down and instinctively the kid winced, closing his eyes in anticipation of pain. But it never came. Seconds past before he dared open them again, and what he saw made him blink several times in shock. A strong rope was keeping the large thug from throwing his arm down on him. Someone had come to his rescue. And it wasn't a Leaguer.

"Now now… didn't your mama ever tell you it's wrong to pick on the little kids?" Catwoman gave the thug a feline smile that bordered on 'I'm going to kill you now'. "Hitting them is just against the rules darling."

"Sue me." Distracted and angry, the large thug dove at her, roaring like a bear in hopes to intimidate her.

But this was never one woman who could be scared so easily. Easily she freed her whip and leapt over the man's head, driving her claws into the soft tissue around his neck. As he rounded about to strike at her with his weapon, she kicked at more vital unprotected locations in his armor, not caring if she fought dirty or not. Her kicks did more damage to the man than Tim's had, being she wore heels and had more momentum. Dodging his slow fists was child's play for her, having dealt with much better in the past. Soon she delivered a well-aimed blow to his temple, knocking him clear out before twirling around to strike down his approaching partner from behind.

"See you in court uglies." She looked over to Tim, still on the ground, staring at the men she had taken down. He was still terrified, shaking and eyes filled with unshed tears. He wanted to look away, but couldn't. Why couldn't he look away? Why? Images of two men in pools of red liquid flashed before his eyes, making his shaking worse. He couldn't wake either of them.

"Tim?"

His name being called made him reflexively look up. Catwoman crouched in front of him, offering her hand. "Timmy? Come on kiddo, it's time to go. Your dad's having kittens at the office."

He didn't move for a long moment, just looked at the lady, his savior with the light above them blazing behind her. She almost looked like an angel, if it weren't for the black cat getup. She saved him. She really saved him.

Slowly he took her hand, letting her help him up, then dived into her arms crying his eyes out. Tim clung to her, shaking and unable to make a single coherent phrase come out of his mouth. He was so scared... Never been in that much danger before alone… He was going to be hurt, like Jason… So scared…

Awkwardly she looked at the boy crying around her neck, not knowing what to do. Her hands hung uselessly in the air for a good minute before she finally put them on the kid's back. She had no idea what to do in this situation. But as it became clear they wouldn't be leaving this place with both of them walking, she gave up awkward and wrapped her arms around the boy. He needed comfort and they needed to get out of there. At least the kid wasn't yelling as he cried.

"Ssshhhhhh…. It's okay… it's okay kiddo. I'll get you home soon. I promise. You're safe now." Quickly she picked the kid up and propped him on one hip best she could. Nine year olds, even small ones you could swear were seven or eight, were heavy! They were halfway out the hangar when she heard him speak distinctly.

"Thank you Selina."

Her eyes popped at her real name, but relaxed as she remembered that his father knew the truth and he was a smart, sneaky boy. He probably read her file. She held him a little tighter when she saw his still teary eyed face a moment later. "No problem kitten."

* * *

"I've searched there," Superman insisted, both exasperated and worried. He and Bruce had gone over the map of Gotham a hundred times, thinking of new places Tim could be. Flash and Manhunter would have been there as well, trying to find the boy but both were busy with intercultural issues (aliens and gorillas). "Luthor's got nothing on his computers and I can't find a connection between him and Tim's disappearance. I've looked at all his buildings in Gotham and Metropolis. We may have to assume he's been taken by someone you've never dealt with before. Someone with resources lined in lead."

"There's Dagget," Bruce admitted. He didn't like the idea of getting the identity of his child's abductor wrong. There were no ransom demands. The police were even starting to say runaway. Who kidnapped a child worth billions of dollars and not make any demands? Someone had taken him for their own means, he knew it! "And the members of Drake Industries general board."

"Are there really that many people after Timmy?" Dick came towards them from the side. He was supposed to be keeping Damian distracted but Jason and Cassandra were doing a better job at it than he was. He never could hide his emotions like they could and his constantly wavering face was unsettling the toddler.

"There are that many people who are interested in controlling any one of you," Bruce admitted. He ran a hand through his hair as he recalled his days being the number one target in Gotham for kidnappings and business control. Tim was in a similar position due to his biological father, and it scared him. "They just have a better chance grabbing Tim than anyone else."

"So where should we look next?" Superman looked back over the map and all the places they already searched. "The cops are watching the bridges, an amber alert is out for civilians to find him, he can't have left the city."

"Docks?"

"No he wasn't at the docks."

Everyone jerked around at the woman's voice coming from the office high rise window. The gargoyle just outside had a grapple attached to it. But, just where the man of steel came in and out all afternoon, stood one Catwoman untangling a groggy Tim from around her neck. As his feet touched the ground, she finish, "He was at the airfield. Don't know who organized it but he's safe now."

"DADDY!" The kid took off running into his father's arms, overly happy to be with his family again. Bruce crouched down and picked him up, holding onto him tightly in relief and joy at his return. He was so scared he wouldn't see his child again. This time around was nothing like the others, nothing at all. He could really lose him.

"Tim…" he murmured in the boy's ear, fighting back his relieved tears. The rest of the Wayne family crowded around him, each happy and relieved to see their brother returned to them. They clambered to get the boy's attention.

"Where were you?!" "Who took you?!" "You wouldn't believe how scared Dad was." "Timmy back! Ice cream now?"

"Are you alright?" Bruce eased his hold on the boy long enough to get a good look at him. He didn't look badly hurt, but there were signs of a struggle. "Did they hurt you?"

Wordlessly the kid nodded before wrapping his arms around his father's neck once more, not ready to talk about it yet. So the lady in the window told them, best she knew. "I stopped these two thugs from moving him. Kiddo was putting up a pretty good fight but the guys were way too big for him."

"Who are you?" Superman asked, truly baffled about this lady who somehow appeared before them with the boy. Her costume did not ring any bells.

"She's Catwoman," Dick explained quickly before anyone else could. He looked straight into her eyes, through her goggles, and gave her a small, gracious smile. "She's kinda a local vigilante. Walks to her own drum."

"You got that right mister." Catwoman gave him an agreeing, slightly fond, smirk in response. Dick knew who she really was, she was sure of it. But that didn't mean Superman had to know. How they knew the alien was beyond her, but it really didn't matter this time. If she was keeping any kind of score, she'd say she earned some serious points that night.

"Thanks for saving Tim," the teen finished, honestly glad she was there.

"Yes," Bruce started, looking back to her graciously. She could swear there were tears coming to his eyes. "Thank you so much for saving my son and bringing him home."

The lady looked away slightly, bit embarrassed by all their gratitude. The others were about to start thanking her as well but she cut them off. She had to get going or she might get roped into joining the League next. "The airfield on the west side of Gotham. Hangar 12B. Usually abandoned. Word on the street was someone valuable and small was being transported via cargo plane at midnight. I don't like human trafficking. Have fun with the rest cape."

With that she leapt out the window and back to her line. She didn't need any more thanks that night. What she needed was a tub of chocolate decadence and a nice hot bath. If she wanted more thanks, she was sure to get it the following day at work. Bruce could be a very generous man.

* * *

A/N: Yeah, another kidnapping but this time Selina did the saving! I liked how little Timmy still put up a fight, despite being far outmatched. I hope I didn't make him too far out of character this time. Bit worried with how he reacted to the bodyless voice then the thugs. Luthor really did organize it, but they won't find any solid connections to it. Tim's gonna be a bit of a catwoman fan now (who can blame him) and Catlad will make a cameo, but don't get your hopes too far up. I's have plans... B3

If anyone wants to suggest stories for older batclan, please tell. like I've said before, if from the comics or tv or games, please provide reference material. Dick's childhood/what I've done so far, is pretty much a blank area we've all played with. So though I have plenty of normal life things that can happen, archs and story retellings would be fun to have. Popular favorite ones please! Still need cassandra fics too. =/

Unrelated pointless question: who else thinks that the new 52 writers are going way too fast? 'cause I've read the new teen titans volume (at last) and thought it would have gone better if they slowed down. Maybe I'm just too used to manga and books and fanfics, but i think they're losing out on some potentially good stuff and therefore making it worse. This series is all pre-52 FYI, so even though the concept of the court of owls is cool, it's not influencing anything here (YJ though...). Just your thoughts.


	33. Battles of the Cowl

Something I thought up at work today. Still working on the first part of the argument, but this is for your entertaining pleasure. Several pictures and comics have influenced this one. Enjoy!

Dick-16 Jason-12 Cass-11 Tim-8 Damian-2

* * *

**Battle of the Cowls**

"Alfred," Bruce started, poking his head into the kitchen curiously, "did you see where Jason or Damian went off to?"

"Indeed I did sir." Some humor dripped from the butler's voice. Still preparing vegetables for a slow roast, he elaborated. "I believe they and the others took refuge in the cave during your meeting with Mr. Queen. I trust the venture went well?"

"Better than expected. We may be able to save his company yet." He looked towards the service elevator through the kitchen pantry, Alfred's entrance and where they first carried smaller equipment in when he made the batcave. "I should probably see what they're up to."

"I'd advice using the stair sir." Alfred's usually hidden smile poked out in broad daylight. He nodded towards the intercom connecting him to the cave. "I have kept appraised of their actions, and I do believe you would like to observe them before interrupting."

Bruce raised an inquiring eyebrow but said nothing. Alfred didn't give advice like this unless it was really in his best interest. He looked at the intercom for a moment when he heard giggling and suspicious planning. They must be having a good time. Taking his time, he wandered to the study to the clock entrance he frequently used to get to work. This entrance was silent, that was why the butler suggested it. He could creep up on his kids without them realizing he was there.

And once he spotted them through the stalactites, he was glad he had.

"I am vengeance. I am the night. I. Am. BATMAN!"

"A lot deeper and a little more gravely," Dick corrected, pointing at Jason from the computer's chair with Damian in his lap. The preteen was wearing Bruce's newest version of his cape and cowl, his last one being in tatters from when he rescued his youngest. The toddler pouted sourly, clutching his batkitty as he watched Jason parade around in its matching costume.

The troublemaker folded his arms and bit back. "I think I'm doing pretty well for never seeing him in action, don't you?"

"Fairly well. But remember how he was when you pulled that stunt last year?"

"Which stunt?" He propped his fists on his hips as he asked.

"The one you got caught for."

"You really need to be more specific." This got a laugh out of both of them and Bruce had to shake his head. Jason loved to pull stunts.

"The one where you pulled in Tim and Cass, and I think there was green jell-o."

"The one Uncle Hal got me to do?" '_So that was his idea,_' Bruce confirmed, shaking his head. Jason apparently didn't think anything of it.

"Yeah… I guess…." Dick apparently didn't know about the Hal connection either. "Anyway, remember how he talked then?"

"Not really. I was too focused on the jell-o in his hair." The kid was laughing as he remembered it, not the slightest bit sorry for what he did.

"Okay… Looks like I'll have to find another example."

"FOUND THEM!" Tim bolted into their part of the cave with his sister in tow. Both were carrying capes and cowls, older ones he hadn't worn in years. "Even found a light cloth one Damian can wear!"

"Sweet!" Dick grinned down at his baby brother whose eyes lit up at the sight of the capes. "See? Told ya Timmy could find one for you. Now what do you say?"

"Gimme!" Both Cass and Jason burst out laughing while Tim pouted and glared at the kid. Bruce gave a heavy sigh. They were going to have to work on that. Still, it was good to hear the laughter. Jason hardly laughed since Joker, even with his recent recovery. And Cassandra was still a quiet girl. He wasn't about to object quite yet.

"Noooo…." Dick though would. "The other thing."

"Tank you?" Damian looked at the teen inquiringly. He gave him a tight hug in response.

"Exactly! Very good Dami!"

"You're welcome," Tim stated, remembering his own manners as he passed his two cowls to them. No point in backtracking a lesson. Bruce was rather proud he took the higher road. The kid turned to Cass, grinning. "Let's get to work."

"We also found some belts." Cass raised three full belts and an empty one. "Couldn't fine one that'd fit Damian. Tim doesn't get weapons. He's not ready for them."

Another round of laughter at the kid's expense nearly made Bruce break from observing and joining them except Tim took it in stride. "Yeah yeah, laugh it up. I'm just not very good with them yet. Just wait, I'll beat you guys one day."

"Yeah, if you ever get off your computer." Dick helped Damian put on the very old cowl before placing him on the floor. "There you go Dami! All dressed up for battle."

"Look at me!" the toddler turned to them all excitedly as they put their cowls on. "I'm a Bat!"

"Whatever you say Dami," Jason joked, grinning at the comment. Each of them chuckled, now wearing their father's most memorable costume piece. Bruce just smiled watching them fondly. He was so glad there was some security cameras in the cave recording right then. He'd need a snapshot of all of them like that.

"Today," Dick started, getting out of the chair boldly, "we are all bats." For a moment he stood proudly, his chest puffed out and his fists on his hips, trying to look heroic. And in a second it was gone. "Oh my gosh! This thing is heavy!"

"You're complaining?" Jay strode up to him challengingly. "I thought you wanted to be Batman."

"Be _like_ Batman," the teen corrected, making Bruce's eyes pop a bit. "There's a difference. Swinging from rooftops, solving crimes, helping people, that's what I wanna do. But scaring people in big heavy capes? No thanks."

"It's not that bad." Tim let himself be completely engulfed in his cape, almost blending into the shadows without realizing it. Cass practically had, naturally in stealth mode around people. "Feels like a big hug."

"I'm a Bat!" Damian squealed again, walking around excitedly with his batkitty still in hand.

"I feel like I'm wearing a Kevlar dress." Dick started walking around as well, fiddling with the ill-fitting mask. "How does he see in this thing? I can barely make out—WHOA! Night vision!"

"Where?! Where?!" Automatically his brothers started fiddling with their cowls, trying to turn on the night vision lenses. "SWEET!" "Cool!"

"HA!" Jason looked straight at Cassandra not too far off. "I can see you Cass! Can't get the drop on me with these night vision—AURG!" The girl flashed a light at him she found in her belt. "CHEATER!"

"Don't worry! I'll save you!" Quickly Dick darted in between the two of them, bringing one part of the cape up to shield the bottom half of his face. "I am the terror that flaps in the night! I am the gum that sticks to your shoe! I am… DARKWING DUCK!"

"No you're not!" The preteen shoved him forward a bit. "You're supposed to be Batman!"

"I can be both. Face my hammers of justice!" The teen perfectly imitated Bruce's Batman voice as he brought his fists up. Cass nearly doubled over laughing as he continued. "Your dastardly dangerously devors are being deviled as we dally!"

"There is no way Dad talked like that!" Jason defended Batman's dignity with every fiber of his being.

Dick shrugged. "It's called creative license, and you should hear all the crazy stories buzzing around online when he was active. I remember this one about some yellow ancient evil rock being called Robert… Okay seriously!" He pulled back the cowl, frustrated. "How can he stand moving around with this thing?! It's flippin' heavy! And the lenses? I hate not being able to see like normal!"

Dick tried to move around again and kept getting tangled around in the cape. He glared at the end of it. "It's too long and throws me off. I'd never be able to pull half my tricks in this thing."

"Some people are better suited for capes than others." The preteen grinned devilishly. "Guess that proves it. I'm Batman."

"No I'm Batman!" Tim practically waltzed up to him defiantly. "You're too tall!"

"Excuse me? Look who's talking half-pint." Jason waved over to Dick fighting the cape still. "The only one of us who can even fill the cape right now is Dick, and he's not really into it."

"I think I hate capes," said brother muttered darkly, stepping on the hem again while trying to move once more. Tim and Damian made it look so easy, but they had lighter ones.

"At least you guys can be Batman," Cass piped in, coming closer with a batarang in hand. "I can only be Batwoman."

"More like Batgirl." She shrugged at her brother's comment, looking over to Damian pretending to fly in his cape. "Probably could go out into the field right now if you come to think of it."

"Yeah they'd be fun to explain." Dick yet again tried to move around with the cape before completely giving up. "That's it! I can't wear this thing! How can he stand it?!"

"With lots of practice."

Everyone froze at their father's voice before turning towards it. Bruce stood at the foot of the stairs, arms crossed and watching them. No humor on his face. They didn't know if they were in trouble or not yet. Damian though didn't care. He immediately flapped his arms at his father. "Daddy! I'm a Bat!"

"Yes, I can see that." Quickly, and before his youngest could get to him, he approached the oldest Batman impersonator and held out a hand. Shame faced, Dick took off the cape and cowl, handing it over to him. He was about to take off the belt too when Bruce put the pieces on himself. They just gaped at him as the true Batman made himself known to them. "But there is only one true Batman."

"Whoa…"

"That's the voice I was talking about!" Dick pointed at Bruce while looking over to Jason. "Deep, gravelly, and something you don't want to hear after a horror movie marathon at night!"

"You weren't kidding." Jason, Cass and Tim just looked at him, admiration and wonder in their eyes rather than the fear he was accustomed to seeing from people who saw him like this. They had seen him in costume at least once before, but those memories were very vague. Seeing him as Batman now, they couldn't help but be in awe of him. Their dad was so cool.

"Did you remember to finish your homework, my batmen?" The kids blinked at the note of humor in his voice as he asked, then all looked away abashed. His eyes narrowed behind his mask, still clearly evident even with the cowl. "Go get it."

"Right…" Immediately the four in school dashed towards the stairs, wanting to get it done before the full on bat-glare came around.

"Cowls stay in the cave, Alfred's law." He heard one of them groan and allowed himself a smirk, flicking on a brighter light for the cave. "They'll be waiting for you when you come back. They aren't putting themselves away you know."

"Waaaiiit…" He received a strange look from them for a moment before it clicked in their heads. Again the four of them grinned, throwing off their cowls before racing to get up stairs for their school bags. The game wasn't over.

Batman grinned, chuckling to himself as he picked up his smallest batkid. Damian giggled in his first cowl, raising his arms as if they were wings again. "I'm Batman!"

"Maybe someday."

* * *

Superman flew into the cave with a new weapon from Intergang, hoping Bruce would be able to find where they were being made. If he could take out the factory, he'd be able to stop future problems with that particular group of villains. Plus it'd put the League on better terms with Interpol. He was not expecting to be greeted by Batman. Or Batmen.

"Rao!" He just gaped at each of the Waynes just hanging out in the cave, wearing Batman's cape and cowl. In Dick's case, he had it draped over himself as he lounged on the back of the dinosaur, _Les Miserable_ in his hands and worksheets on his lap. Jason, Cass and Tim were laying on the floor, math books in front of them as they helped each other with their homework. Damian was tangled in a very old cape and cowl, napping on Bruce's lap as he worked on a puzzling Riddler case remotely.

"What's going on?" he asked as he touched the ground next to the computer. He hadn't seen the man in even part of his old uniform since he came to Mount Justice to retrieve his rescued son from them. It wasn't something he wore often anymore, even looked odd. Especially without the rest of his gear on him. And the kids? "I thought you had it all under lock and key."

"Tim's rather good with picking locks. That from Intergang?" Batman's nonchalant attitude surprised the man of steel even more than seeing all the capes. Why were there so many to begin with?

"Uh, yeah… Is Alfred wearing one of those?" He pointed to the man's cowl, receiving a series of giggles from the kids on the floor.

"No."

"We should get him to!" Dick slid off the t-rex, landing neatly on the floor with his items and cape/blanket, grinning. "Then we should all take a picture! The Bat-Family! Properly dressed at long last!"

"Yeah right," Jason jibed, turning towards him sarcastically. "Like he'd ever wear one."

"That would be a sight to see." Superman looked up and down Dick for a moment, surprised he wasn't wearing one too. "Why aren't you—"

"Can't move in the blasted thing. Dunno how they do it." He motioned over to his siblings and Bruce at his chair, giving an exasperated sigh. "So freakin' heavy. You want to try it?"

"Dick," Bruce warned, his tone saying 'no' from his chair.

"I probably shouldn't," the alien stated, at the same time as he grinned and nodded his head. "You know how Batman is about his toys."

"Oh believe me, I know." Impish grins in place, the acrobat passed the piece over to him then dived a hand in his pocket for his phone. The other three bats on the floor spotted the exchange and covered their mouths to stop any escaping snickers. "You wouldn't believe how he reacted when I started juggling the batarangs when I was a kid the first time."

"Total panic attack?" Swiftly he pulled the mask over his head, adjusting it quickly to fit right on him.

"Close. He was a lot better the second time around. Smile for the camera!" As Dick took a snapshot, Batman, the real one, snapped his head around and spotted what they were doing.

"DICK!"

"Check me out ladies," SuperBatman joked, snapping some fake shots and grinning off to the side for another pose. "I'm Batman."

* * *

A/N: extra kudos if you can find that picture I just described at the end. it's the funniest ever! And so them, pre-reboot. If anyone's been reading the zero issues (getting it from online reviews sadly) then you know what else inspired this one. How else could a toddler Damian wear the thing here? Other references: battle for the cowl where both Jason and Tim tried to be Batman, Cass and her batgirl stint (I miss her!), and DickBats! he always said he hated capes, and I saw a comic online were Dick said he felt like he was wearing a kevlar dress. Thought it was funny.

Still working on argument. Thinking of throwing Steph in here somehow too, but not until after the next major arch. Think that's a good idea? Sadly, no idea how to involve Helena if at all. but not gonna cry over it. So steph, yea? nay? Have an idea on how, but not on when. Oh, more arch covers/hints for the future on my DA page. same name. enjoy!


	34. No Dating, Only Justice

FINALLY! this chapter took forever to do! I really don't like writing those two argue. Plus I had to keep looking at other chapters... I guess this took place before the cowls thing and before selina talks to him. I hope it makes sense. like i said, I don't like writing those two argue so I'm not sure if it does. =/ enjoy!

Dick-16

* * *

**No Dating, Only Justice**

Bruce dropped his mug of hot coffee, gaping in disbelief at the screen before him. This could not be happening. He had to be wrong. Dick and Barbara were not kissing on the couch in the library. They were studying and being politely quiet about it. Whispering very close to each other's face. That was all. That had to be all.

He nearly convinced himself he was seeing it wrong when Tim came into get a new book, saw them and turned right back around, wide eyed and surprised. The two high schoolers immediately separated at the interruption, blushing profusely and trying to get back on track with their school work. Both of them started giggle a minute or so after, seemingly unable to get back to work.

Teenagers… in love? No. Had to be puppy love or one of those awkward friendships. Maybe kissing buddies. He heard of a lot of strange relationships those days. The man tried to ignore what the security feed had shown him on pure chance while he was working on schematics for the new League base they were building on the moon. The cameras had to be wrong. They weren't romantically involved. Just friends.

* * *

"Where are you headed off to?"

Dick jerked around in surprise, not knowing when Bruce had left the cave and decided to join the rest of humanity. He'd been spending a lot of time in there lately helping with the making of the League's new headquarters (something about Joker and some mini-invasion made the one in Happy Harbor unsafe). He mostly came out when the kids or Alfred insisted, his day job demanded it, or when Selina was there. Yet here he was asking for the 4-1-1 on Dick's life.

"Uh, the movies. A few friends and I thought we'd catch the latest Spiderman."

"Who are you going with?" Bruce kept his voice casual, no need to alarm him.

"Just some friends. Barbara is picking me up in a few minutes then we're meeting the others at the theater."

"Who else? What theater?"

Dick gave him a long 'what are you doing?' look before answering. "Tony Hendricks, Adriana Smith, Matt Dean, Cathy Wiser… Oh Bette Kane and her boyfriend Tom. Or was it Harry… But shouldn't Babs be enough? Why the third degree? It's just a movie."

"Sounds like a group date."

The teen blinked, silent for a moment at the suggestion. He kept himself at ease and gave a short chuckle. "No, just a group of friends. It may be a date for Bette though."

"Didn't know you two were getting along." The man recalled a high class party where he and Bette were throwing names at each other. Well, mostly Bette was shouting at him and he was laughing at her horrible excuses for insults. He always liked riling her up.

"We're not kids anymore," the acrobat drawled, smirking to himself. "She's Babs' friend and the two of us talked it out. I mean, how can we judge each other by what we did when we were ten? We're good now."

"Are you sure you should be going out now?" He looked out the window casually, seeing the sun barely set over the horizon. "I could—"

Now Dick was laughing. "Seriously Bruce, its Friday night. I'm just going out with friends, seeing a movie, maybe get something to eat on the way home, and I'm staying on the grid." He waved his watch around, joking. "Barbara, Bette, and a few other high profiles are coming, sure, but we aren't staying out late or broadcasting it. What happened? Was there a death threat?"

The man watched him for a moment then shook his head. "No. Just… keeping an eye out. Go have fun okay?"

"Always do." He grinned at him one last time before dashing out the door to meet his ride at the gate. Bruce watched him through the window, confirming that Barbara Gordon was the one picking him up. Really that wasn't unusual. Dick went out with friends all the time. He just happened to have a girl as his best friend.

"Maaayyybeee I do need to let them meet the Teen Titans. Get more male friends…" His eyes nearly popped though when he saw the two kiss shortly after getting into the car, like a couple would.

"Is anything the matter Master Bruce?" Alfred snuck up behind him, curious to what he was starting at for the past few minutes.

"Nothing Alfred. Not a thing."

* * *

"Daddy," Damian cocked his head at his father from the back seat of the car. The man's attention was completely on the courtyard at Gotham Academy where Dick was known to have lunch. "I hungwy."

"Right." Blindly he reached into his satchel and picked out a bag of snack apples Alfred prepared for him that day. Still not looking, he opened the bag and handed it to his son. His eyes were solely on the courtyard, looking for his eldest. "Here you go."

"Dank you." Bruce had to smile at that. They'd been working on Damian's manners lately. 'Please' still escaped him and 'sorry' was just a word, but it was a start. As the toddler ate his snack to hold him off until they returned to the office for lunch, he focused again on the courtyard. Dick said he ate in a tree once…

There. Right below a large tree was Dick and his group of friends. They were all older than him. Having skipped a year before entering the school system, he didn't really have anyone in his age to talk to during classes. All his friends were older than him.

And there was Barbara, sitting right next to him. They were talking to some other person in the group (Bruce had to brush up on the names and faces of people in Dick's class), laughing at some joke or another. The two of them were pretty close together, about as close as another couple at the table, the two who had their arms around each other. Almost.

The man took up a set of binoculars and focused on the two of them, joking and laughing. At one point Dick stood up a bit only for Barbara to pull him back down, laughing. Bruce was taken back when he read her lips. "…hunk wonder?"

He groaned, putting the binoculars down. Rubbing his forehead he accepted the information at last. Dick Grayson and Barbara Gordon were dating, behind his back. A sixteen year old was dating an eighteen year old. As much as he liked Barbara, Dick was too young to date. He wasn't responsible enough, wasn't ready for a relationship of this magnitude. Not until he was at least half way through college.

Oh God. College. Dick would be graduating next year. There was no way the kid who covered the T-rex in red paint last Halloween was ready to go off on his own by then. He had to think of something before he started taking SATs, some kind of plan to keep his boy safe. If he was going behind his back to date Barbara now, what would he be doing once he was in the dorms? Panic gripped Bruce's chest. He had to do something, fast. Dick had no idea what he was getting into.

"Daddy?" Damian's voice brought him back to present, forcing him to push his thoughts back for a moment. "I firsty."

"Right… Just one second." He looked this time to find the boy's water bottle, mentally distracted. He had to come up with something, fast.

* * *

"Dick, we need to talk."

The teenager looked up from his textbook (studying for finals), raising an eyebrow. Bruce didn't look pleased, but he wasn't super angry either. Quickly he searched his mind for any pranks or things he'd done recently that'd warrant any disapproval, finding nothing. He was a rather well behaved person, for a hyperactive prankster. "What about?"

"Barbara."

'_Crap._' Dick's eyes widened for a moment before he managed to convince himself it wasn't anything to worry about. He shrugged. "What about her?"

"You do know she's eighteen right?" Bruce slid into to a nearby chair, getting on eye level with the teen.

"Yeah, I was there for her birthday. What of it?"

"And you're sixteen." The man took a deep breath before continuing. "Even if it's consensual, if you sleep with her it's considered statutory rape."

"Who said anything about sleeping with her?!" Instantly he was both mad and embarrassed. His face had turned red and white within seconds of each other while his voice screeched out the objection. Seeing his reaction lessened some tension in the man's face.

"So you two haven't—"

"Why would we?!" Gaping at the man, he couldn't believe the accusation! The farthest they've ever gone was kissing, and never for very long. Something or someone always interrupted them. And besides, he was jailbait and knew it. If he wanted to make sure they didn't screw up their relationship, they had to be very careful.

"Because the two of you have been dating." There was a displeased tone in the man's voice, one the teen caught easily. His face became several shades whiter, caught in the very act he'd been hoping would remain hidden for a few years more. "And dating in this day and age implies—"

"We are not sleeping together!" Dick quickly interrupted. He kept the man's gaze as he told him this a second time. This was the undeniable truth. Even if the rest was something that made him uncomfortable talking to him. "We barely even… How… When did you…"

Bruce let him fumble around for a moment, trying to ask the right question before relenting. "I've been watching the two of you lately. It's not hard to put the pieces together once you have all the information."

"You've been watching me?" He gaped at him in disbelief. The man's casual air about it really disturbed him. "For how long?" Still no answer. Just watching him, unemotional. This really started to rile the teen up. "You're acting like a stalker Bruce."

"I wouldn't have to if you just told me at the beginning of it all." The first words in explanation were an excuse? The acrobat just shook his head in disbelief.

"I didn't because I knew how you'd react. You royally freaked when I went on my first date a couple years back. Remember?"

"You were too young," Bruce insisted, his face and voice becoming stern. "You're still too young."

He couldn't believe this. The teenager looked at him as if he was crazy. "I'm sixteen."

"Too young," the man insisted, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Especially for women Barbara's age."

Dick looked away slightly before responding. "Because she's eighteen? Because she's a legal adult and I'm not? Is that your only objection? Our ages?"

"Mostly." The CEO came back to his feet, looking over his son shrewdly. "Barbara Gordon's a good person and I respect her very much, but I don't want you two seeing each other romantically. You're too young for any of that."

"Bruce, I'm _sixteen_! Even the Mormon kids are told to date then!" He couldn't believe this. Was Bruce really going to forbid him from being with the girl he liked? Really liked?

"You're not Mormon. You're too young and that's final." Dick bit his lip, knowing there was no arguing with this man. He didn't change his mind easily. More than likely he'd be landed with a bunch of new rules because of his ultimatum.

He was right. "No kissing, petting, or holding hands. No dates, even group ones."

"But—" the teen tried to object weakly only to be ignored.

"You're to be home by seven unless it's school related or you're with an adult I approve of."

"That's not—"

"You fail to follow these rules and you can kiss that car you want goodbye." That shut the kid up in a jiffy. Once the school year was out they were going to get his driver's license, and his first car. It was a promise Bruce made to him the previous year, when he first asked him to teach him how to drive. Dick had been looking forward to it getting that car all term, working hard to earn it with his grades and passing driver's ed. "Understood?"

"Yes sir." His low, deflated tone only matched his heartbroken pout. Some guilt crossed Bruce's face seeing it but quickly vanished. He never was one to show his true feelings, unlike the boy before him.

"Look, Dick," the man tried in an attempt to cheer him up, "it's not as bad as it seems. You're just not ready for romance quite yet. Give it a few years and you'll be glad you waited. I'm just trying to protect you."

"I don't always need protection Bruce," Dick insisted, though he didn't look at the man before him. The teen was thoroughly miserable by the ultimatum and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

* * *

"Your dad's a real piece of work you know."

Dick jerked his head over to Babs in the hallway. It was only yesterday he was basically threatened into breaking up with his girlfriend, ordered to really. He hadn't had time to talk to her about it yet, to work something out. "Huh?"

The brilliant, lovely redhead before him gave a short huff before leaning against the locker next to him. "I don't know how he found out, but your dad, Bruce Wayne, he told my dad about our relationship. You can guess where that went."

"He's not my dad." He slammed his locker shut, growling to himself angrily. Bruce was really crossing the line this time. Bringing in Bab's dad, the commissioner… He was ready to start busting heads now. How could he do this to him?!

"Well he sure acts like it." Barbara pouted and glared at the ground at the same time. This really wasn't fair. "Dad said I can't go to prom with you like we planned. He has to meet my date and he has to be my age or I'm grounded until college starts."

"We could both go stag and hook up there," Dick suggested after a moment. There had to be a way around this.

"My dad's one of the chaperones."

Dick threw his head back in frustration. They were stuck. Prom was a big deal to them and all their plans were thrown into the abyss because of one snoopy man who wouldn't let his oldest date. Both angry at their parents, they weaved through the hallway crowds to their class one together. There had to be a way around this!

"Like I said before, Wayne's a real piece of work."

"Yeah, I noticed." A fire sparked in the teen's chest, and it wasn't ready to be quenched any time soon.

* * *

Dick practically stormed Bruce's office, slamming open the doors while marching in. The enraged scowl on his face was like nothing the man had ever seen before on his face. The teenager was royally mad, at him. "Dick. What are you—"

"Why'd you tell her dad?!" He didn't stop when Damian peaked over the couch to see what was going on curiously. He'd never raised his voice like that around anyone. "Isn't it bad enough you told me off from seeing Barbara?! Did you have to bring him in on this?!"

"Dick—"

"You shouldn't have gotten him involved Bruce!" He threw his hands in the air, berating the man in frustration. "Now she's in trouble with him, probably won't go to Prom, and it's all your fault!"

"My fault?" The man gave him a slightly offended look.

"Yeah! Your fault! She didn't do anything wrong! And you just have to paint it—"

"Dick she's eighteen!" Disbelieving anger flew across Bruce's face. How could this kid not understand? "How else can someone paint it? I just presented him with the facts!"

"He didn't need to know!"

"Yes he did!" Bruce slammed his fists against his desk. Why couldn't this boy understand? He was doing this for him! "For both your sakes, I had to tell Jim. I thought he took it rather well."

"Only because he agreed with you! He practically leapt at the chance to join your self-righteous crusade to make our lives miserable!"

"I'm not trying to—"

"Well you're doing a good job of it anyway!"

"Richard John Grayson!" Hearing his full name made the teen pause for a moment. Bruce's scowl nearly matched Dick's. "For one minute listen to yourself! You're being very irrational about this. Not dating, not going to prom, it's not the end of the world. I'm just making sure you don't make a horrible mistake. You're just sixteen years old. I'm trying to protect you."

"Quit protecting me so much! I can take care of myself!" Dick bit back, unconvinced and still angry. "I don't need coddling! I need space!"

"What you need is perspective! Think for a minute! What will happen when a relationship at your age goes south? What can happen if the two of you get caught in the heat of the moment and go too far?"

"We won't!"

"Dick, you can hardly control your hormones right now. What makes you think you can stop yourself later?" It was a valid point, one that made the man act earlier. "I had to tell Jim to make sure you two didn't make a mistake you would regret later and would hate each other for."

"This from a guy who really can't keep it in his pants!"

"DICK!" Now that was taking it too far. But the boy wouldn't let up.

"Think about it for a moment! Just how many relationships have _you_ had? And how many of them have panned out? Are _you_ married? Do _you_ have a steady girlfriend? And don't say Selina counts! You know you're not steady! You're hardly the person I'd go to for relationship advice!"

"Oh and you think you're ready for one?"

"Yeah, I am! More than you are! I keep my promises and try to work things out rather than shove her out the door with some diamond to make up with leaving her high and dry!"

"You don't understand what you're talking about! You're sixteen years old!"

"Old enough to make my own decisions!"

"Not ones like these! You can't handle what you're asking for!"

"I don't recall asking for anything!"

"Dick!"

"I think I know what the real problem is." The teen pointed an accusing finger at him. "You don't trust me! You think I'm still some irresponsible kid who can't do anything without some adult supervision, like _live my own life_! You don't trust me to do it on my own! I'm not a little kid anymore! I can take care of myself!"

"I'll believe it when I see it!"

This shut the teen right up, glaring at him with pain filled eyes. Unwittingly the man had confirmed one of Dick's worst fears. "You really don't trust me."

"It's not a matter of trust Dick. It's just—"

"You think just because I'm a teenager I can't handle myself. Well newsflash for you!" He shook as he shouted his last statements. "I'm growing up and that means girls and dating! I'm more than capable of handling it! The only thing keeping me from anything is you! So cut it out!"

"Dick!"

The teenager didn't bother to listen to any more coming out of the man's mouth, too angry and upset to hear another world. Blocking out shouts from Bruce and crying from Damian, Dick ran out of the room, far from his eyes or anyone else's. He needed to get away, far away. He didn't want to hear another word from the man who still thought he was a kid. And probably forever would.

* * *

A/N: just to get it out of the way, that little mormon joke, I can make it because I am one and it's a cultural reference. Please don't flame because of it. It only influences how I write, not who the characters are or how they act. if you've noticed, certain characters do curse and profane, but it's a lot less than in others' stories. That's about all the influence you see here. *prays she's not making a mistake*

Now for the rest of the notes! Yeah I know selina took Dick's side, but now we have the parental side of it all which also makes sense. Which side do i agree with? neither. I wasn't ready to date when I was 16 and knew it. But Dick started dating early in the comics so I had to give him this. He also had a huge crush on Babs for years before they went anywhere romantically (not an expert on DickBabs, only have online references, hearsay and a few comics). the title I got from a comic i found on DA where Bats interrupts a near romantic moment with Nightwing and Batgirl and said it. Think I read something else where Dick reminded Gordon that he took him to his senior prom. The commissioner then said he took his daughter to prom, Dick just happened to be in the car. =P Prom will be an issue later. *evil laugh*

Oh we also get to see some of Dick's usual doubting issues, where he feels Bruce doesn't trust him enough to be on his own. Doesn't he have a whole boatload of self-worth issues and complexes in the comics? I think I want to incorporate that a bit.

as for unrelated things, people seem to be on the fence with whether or not to bring in steph. I'm not having Bruce adopt any more kids, that's official (though I have thought of an interesting ending that way but I digress) so don't think I'd bring her in that way. She'd be in it like Babs is, if at all. Bette Kane's name drop was literally a name drop. Should I do a poll to hear what readers want? or just keep going on my merry old way making certain teenagers' lives miserable? I really don't know steph so I can't really do her anymore justice than babs who has actual tv appearances.

Lastly: wow! 21 reviews on the last one I posted late at night in one day! let's try that again! course that one was happier than this...


	35. Career Counseling

This was a scene I thought may be important to the next arch. That or actually writing the paper in question. Either way, I think it's important for the future. May have one scene like this for other Batkids as well, but as Dick's the only one in the comics thus far who's actually finished school, I can't be sure. =P

Dick-16

* * *

**Career Counseling**

"You wanted to see me Mrs. Burk?" Dick popped his head into the office, looking for the guidance counselor. He wasn't in trouble this time, every senior was getting called in to talk to her.

"Yes," a lady in her early forties answered, smiling at him, "please come in… Richard." She glanced at her paperwork to make sure she had his name right. The teen grinned and came in, excited to talk to her about this. He didn't get to talk to anyone at home about it seriously. He flopped into the chair without a moment's delay, eager for her to start.

She brushed through his paperwork for a moment, settling on a career options page the teen had filled out. "Well, as you probably know, I called you here to talk about your future. Says here you intend to become a police officer after high school. Is that correct?"

"Yep!" It had been his dream for years. Well, right next to another one that wouldn't be coming true any time soon.

"And it also says here you're going to be graduating a year early." Mrs. Burk looked him straight in the eye as his smile wilted for a moment. Yeah, he was sixteen. That seemed to be a running problem these days. "You do know they won't let teenagers into the police academy, right?"

"Yeah…" The acrobat looked away. There's reality for you.

"So what are you planning on doing until your eighteenth birthday? College?"

He blinked at her. Well, this was a first. She really did take him seriously, despite his age. "Well… Haven't really thought about it. All I've been able to think about is how to get away with joining the academy."

"You should consider it, especially if you want to be a detective, like this 'Batman' you talked about in your report here." She showed him the paper he wrote at the beginning of the year in his English class. Everyone was required to write it for the councilors. The assignment: After graduation, what is your career of choice and why? Please explain your reasoning in 500 to 600 words. "Criminology programs can really give you an edge in the detective exams. And some departments don't allow entrance unless you have a degree of some sort."

"Huh…" Dick looked to the side, thinking about it. Until then, he hadn't seriously thought about college. Sure Bruce would want him to go, but not going would be sticking it to him. College was his choice after all. But if he went, his dream of being a cop would be assured. "Didn't know that."

"Haven't you talked to an officer about it?"

"Not really." He fidgeted in his chair. "Haven't talked to anyone but Babs about it."

"Babs?" The lady raised an eyebrow. "Your girlfriend?"

"Kinda." Officially the two broke up because of her dad and Bruce's intervention. Age again. Unofficially though… They still texted, emailed and had secret dates, they just covered their tracks a lot better. "She also wants to be a cop. Her dad though is really against it so she's going into computer sciences and finding a way around him."

"Why would she have to—"

"Her dad's a cop." He looked away, not wanting to say he was the commissioner too. Time to move away from Barbara. "I know one or two others, but mostly forensics. I know that requires a lot of school and I'm not really interested in being in one that long. Don't think I can handle it."

"Your scores say otherwise." She looked through his transcripts. "Straight A's, some are minus and others plus. Mostly in less curricular fields. You study I take it?"

"Well if you work hard for something you're sure to get it." Of course he studied. It was one way to avoid people and get out of school faster. Bruce didn't complain as much about his behavior if his grades were good. Or maybe not. He never let himself drop lower than a B in any class.

"Same with your dream job." Mrs. Burk gave him a knowing smile. "If you want to be a police detective one day, you're going to have to work hard for it. I highly recommend college in your case. You haven't really taken any classes here that'll help you in the detective's exam."

"Really?" Dick looked over his transcripts upside down. He didn't really see any problem with his electives. Mostly sports and other fun classes his friends were taking. School electives were supposed to be fun.

"Uh huh. If you took Psychology or Criminal Justice, it would have given you a leg up. Looks like to me you mostly took basic requirements then had fun." She looked up to him, raising an eyebrow. "When did you start thinking about your future career goals Richard?"

"Uhm…" The acrobat really didn't have a date. Truth be told, he only put down 'policeman' on the survey because 'vigilante' wasn't allowed. Ever since he first saw Batman in action he wanted to be like him. He still wanted to be like him. When Bruce wasn't being a stubborn closed minded mule that is. The guy was amazing! And yet even he was determined to keep him out of his destined path. 'Police Officer' appeared on his future career choice papers ever since. "I guess since I was eleven, but I didn't take it seriously."

"Hm." She eyed him for a moment, then shrugged. "I don't think it's too late to change next semester's electives to those two if you're serious about it. It'd'll give you an idea of what you'll have to take in the future should you enter the academy."

"Then I won't be able to take Shop II or Dance!" he objected. As much as he wanted to be a cop, hanging out with friends or checking out girls was higher on his priority list.

The lady rolled her eyes as if saying 'teenagers'. "It is your choice, but if you're really serious about becoming an officer later, I'd highly recommend them."

Dick bit the inside of his mouth, thinking. Friends and girls, or snagging as close of a job to his ideal as he could? He'd really have to think hard on this one. "I'll think about it."

"Don't wait too long to respond," she warned. "The cutoff date for next semester's classes is the end of this month. I'd also recommend looking in to colleges, for in the meantime."

"But I…" He really wasn't sure if he could take anymore school. Sitting in classes all day long? BORING!

"I know you don't really care about it," she repeated, "you've made that clear, but you really need to think about it. Personally, if I were in your shoes, I'd recommend a local one to get the basics out of the way before transferring to one with a good criminology program. This will get you ahead of the others if you're serious about going down this career path. It will also determine whether or not you're committed to it."

"Of course I'm committed to it!" He nearly leapt from his seat. He was told talking to this lady about his future would be fun! So far he only felt uncomfortable and now offended.

"Really?" She gave him the 'I doubt it' look he received from Alfred every time he said he got permission to do something he really didn't. "Because your electives and answers just now tell me otherwise."

Dick started to scowl at her, almost hearing Bruce's berating voice whenever he started lecturing him about being 'too young' for something. But what she said next made him look away. "I'm not telling you how to live your life Richard. I'm just pointing out how you've lived it. And it doesn't look like you're committed to this quite yet. It's not uncommon for students gifted like you, who've skipped grades and are graduating earlier than others, to have trouble deciding goals. I've known people who are in college and still can't get a fix on what they want to do with their lives. I'm just saying, if you're serious about this career path, you're going to have to do more than just talk. You have to take action and endure the parts you hate in order to succeed. Do you think I liked taking all those math classes in college? There's a reason I'm a guidance counselor and not a math teacher."

This earned her a quick laugh. Okay, he hadn't really taken the idea seriously. Hadn't even told Bruce about it. Or Alfred. He may have talked to Jason and Tim about it once, but only as a joke. He'd done nothing to expose his possible plan. And maybe that was why it wasn't happening quite yet. Kinda made sense.

"Now, I'm going to ask you, seriously. Are you certain this is what you want to do? Do you really want to become a police officer? You're plenty qualified and capable of doing other jobs, and I'm certain your parents could help you get whatever position you wanted in their company."

'_She has no idea who I really am!_' The realization was almost funny to him. She didn't know about Bruce. She didn't know his parents were dead. And Mrs. Burk really didn't know that Dick wanted to be a corporate shark as much as he wanted to get hit by a truck. It was almost refreshing that someone didn't care and therefore had no prejudices.

He smirked to himself before answering. "Being in Bruce's company is the last thing I want. I want to be a cop. I want to save lives and bring criminals to justice. Batman did that for me," he pointed to his paper, something she still had in plain view. "The least I can do is pay it forward and do the same for others. I think I'd make a good cop, if given the chance. A great detective even. I really want to do this."

This satisfied the woman before him. "Alright then. My recommendations still stand. At least try going to college until you're old enough to go to the police academy, and take a few criminology courses while you're there. So long as you're committed, I think you'll do fine.

"I just have a few questions for myself though." She raised his paper up, a little unsure now what to say. "In your paper, you said you want to be an officer because of Batman. Personally I don't know who that is," Dick's lips twitched in response, "but I do know who Superman is. How is it you're a Superman fan but have Batman here as your hero and inspiration?"

The acrobat grinned fondly. Yeah, that could be confusing. "When I was a kid and first heard about Superman, he became my unreachable idol. Really, so many powers, helps people in the most unbelievable ways, a friend to all, who isn't a fan?

"But when my parents died," the lady blinked hearing this, surprised, "Batman came into my life and made sure they received justice. I saw him in action, and he's a guy like anyone else. Just has a lot of training and some really nifty gadgets. He made sure no one hurt me and those who tried were sent to the hospital. He was there and he understood what I went through. I could see myself in him, see what I could become. I saw what anyone could become, without powers. He… was amazing."

In his mind's eye he saw Bruce back in the uniform he wore when he first saw him in action. The man was amazing, a dream he could touch. He was real. He was everything to him, and Dick knew he'd always be there for him. No matter how pigheaded and overprotective the man was, Bruce would always be there for him when he needed him. He understood, he had compassion, and he still had a wicked temper that'd send criminal scum screaming.

"Superman is a dream, an impossible wish. Batman though, he was a reality I wanted to hold on to. But unfortunately vigilantes are illegal." He shrugged, smirking slightly. Sure he wanted to be one, and didn't care if they were, but Bruce would never allow it. He retired in order to prevent him from going out on rooftops as well. "Best I can do is become a cop, maybe head detective one day. If I can live up to his ideals, then I succeeded in being like Batman, and possibly the idea of Superman. Isn't that what we all reach for?"

Mrs. Burk watched him for a good minute before smiling at him. "I guess it is. Bet Superman would be proud if he heard you say something like that. Even this 'Batman', whoever he is."

"Haven't been in Gotham for very long have you." Dick grinned at her awkwardness.

"Two years next week."

"His last known case was when I was eight," he explained. '_My case_' he mentally added. "Rumors of him have probably settled down. He's an urban legend now, but I know he's real. I still remember his voice and how heavy his cape was. And believe it or not, he was really nice to me. Underneath that scary exterior, he's probably a big softy."

"I bet he is." She carefully put each piece of paper back into its place, taking out a form to fill out about their talk. "Well, I think we're about done here Richard. Still recommend a change in next term's schedule—"

"I'll look into it," he started as he stood up. "Thanks for laying it out for me. I haven't been able to talk to people about this."

"You should probably try talking to… auhm…" She looked at him, a little lost on what to say next. She had caught on that he was an adoption or a ward or something similar.

"Bruce?" He looked away. "He… he's paranoid. Freaks when I even mention the word 'girlfriend'. Hasn't even brought up college really."

"Separation anxiety," the lady murmured, giving him an understanding look. "That's hard for any parent or guardian."

"No kidding. I'd think he'd have a heart attack if he heard I wanted to be a cop." Dick looked at the folder, thinking twice. "Um, can you promise me he'll never see my paper? I really don't want to give him any hints."

More like he didn't want him to know how much he admired the man. The guy could be such an idiot at times and right then he didn't want to reveal how much he cared for him. They should try and work things out without that paper making him anymore uncomfortable.

"Well since it doesn't give any hints of suicide or murder," Mrs. Burk joked, "I don't see any reason it should leave my files or your hands."

This made him breathe out in relief. "Thanks."

"No problem. Hope you make your decisions soon Richard. Like I said, end of the month's the deadline, then you need to think about the SATs and ACTs." She offered him her hand and he took it, giving her a firm shake. "Mr. Haine can write you a late note on your way out."

"Thanks again." Smiling, Dick left her to finish her job. Ten minutes in her office and he had a different view of the future. His friends there were right. She was good.

* * *

A/N: wish i had a guidance counselor like that. Then maybe I would have gotten farther in the school thing. Really should go back... Like Dick, I had no motivation. Dunno why he left college after one semester, but here Dick hasn't had a lifetime's worth of criminology training. so he's not going to stop part way through. My preference. *evil laugh* Oh, I took both Psych and Criminal Justice in my senior year of high school (still have CJ's notes) so I know Dick could do it, no problem. Some of the most interesting classes I ever took next to Stage Craft (highly recommend that one! so much fun!). And the path the lady suggested is pretty typical isn't it? Basics first, then specialize. Dunno if my info's right on police academies, but it sounds accurate enough.

As for the whole "Superman Fan, Batman Hero" bit, I thought it explained Dick's behavior rather well. As much as Dick is a fan of Supes, no one can really become him. Batman on the other hand has done everything he can as a mortal man to make things right. Bruce has done everything he can. In infinite crisis, Bruce said Supes was about setting an example while Bats was about doing everything he could. That's kinda why Bats is his hero/end goal while he's just in awe of superman. Does that make sense? hope so. That paper comes into play in the next major arch (still in the works and been so busy with build up i haven't really gotten far with it, physically).

wow... I really need to head to bed.


	36. Crowded

Okay, haven't done one of these in over a week, and someone asked for a whole cast one, so I just made this today. Had the idea for a while though and it becomes something kinda important later but oh well. Been working on the 'Sacrifice' arc I keep tempting people with and figuring out what to put up as build up for it, and on a story I put on my poll but no one seems to want me writing yet. =/ Too bad it's so freakin' interesting. So sorry to all my readers that's been wanting more material! Thinking cap isn't really on when certain stories are involved *coughfixingdamiancough*.

Dick-15 Jason-12 Cass-10 Tim-8 Damian-2

* * *

**Crowded**

It started with one of Jason's nightmares. Bruce was still awake at the time thankfully and just coming upstairs after walking Wonder Woman through disarming a bomb in Washington. One scream was all he needed to hear to run into the boy's room. Quickly he wrapped his arms around his traumatized son and started to rock him in hopes to calm him. It took a few minutes of gentle murmurs and stifled cries, but Jason started to calm down.

"Don't bury me," he begged, his mind still in his dreams. "Don't leave me alone like this."

"I'm not leaving you Jason," his father reassured him, resting his chin on the lad's head. "You're safe here. You're safe."

As the boy's body started to relax against his, Bruce felt he could sleep through the rest of the night without him. Jason though felt otherwise. Keeping his fists tight on his father's shirt and moaning a bit in his half-awake state, the man was forbidden from leaving him. "Jason…"

"Don't go," came his small voice, barely understandable against his shirt.

"I have to—"

"No! You promised!" He looked up to him with bleary, tear filled eyes, starting to tremble again. The man just looked into them, remembering the words he said just minutes ago. Jason had him there. But Bruce couldn't possibly stay in that bed the entire night.

Only one option. "Alright. Hold on chum." Swiftly he swooped an arm under the boy's legs, carrying him and whatever dragging pieces of his blankets pinned against them, out of the room. The bed there wasn't large enough for both of them and who knew who else would be looking for him in the morning. Only option? The master bedroom and its California King sized bed.

Jason didn't complain about being carried over to his father's bedroom, or when the warm blankets finally fell off and away from him in the hallway. Knowing his dad wasn't leaving him for a moment was enough and so he just nestled into his arms further, drifting back off into slumber. Bruce anticipated having a hard time opening his door, but it turned out to be ajar.

"What the…" Carefully he peaked inside, eyeing the room suspiciously to see if anything was out of place. Nothing as of yet, but there were unknown entities on his bed. Noiselessly he pushed the door open further to get a better look. An extra pair of slippers, small slippers, were at the edge of the bed. Coming closer he could identify what, or rather who, was in his bed.

Bruce rolled his eyes, shaking his head bemused. On either edge of his bed were Cassandra and Tim, both sound asleep and curled up in the blankets like cats. Well Tim looked more like a cat than Cass, but that was because his sweaty hair was sticking up near his ears.

'_Must have had nightmares,_' he figured and proceeded to set a limp Jason down next to his sister. She didn't move near as often as Tim did, and she didn't snuggle near as much as the boys did either. Stretching his back, the man tried to figure out how to get into his bed safely without alerting any of them. Wasn't going to be easy. Course there was always Dick's old route from when he was little.

"About time you popped up." Bruce jerked around to the whispering behind him. Dick stood just inside the doorway carrying a sleepy Damian. He looked a little frazzled. "Dami went after me when he couldn't find you. Finally got him to calm down."

The man gave a heavy sigh before taking his youngest out of his oldest's arms, relieving him of the burden. "Thanks."

"Hm." The teenager smiled a little then looked over to the bed, raising an eyebrow. "Wow… Everyone's here."

"Hm." He looked back to the others, seeing a large bed not being as big as he thought anymore. Getting in it himself was still going to be a problem.

"Last time we let Jason have complete control over the movie."

Bruce slowly turned his head to face him, donning frustration entering his face. "What?"

Dick gave a sheepish grin. "We were being nice. Letting him pick the movie, no holds barred. Ended up being a zombie flick. I… don't think Timmy actually made it to his bed. Cass might have. Dami had passed out half way through it and I thought he'd be fine but…"

Seeing the man's disapproval, he cringed back. "Bad idea?"

"Very." He shook his head, looking back to the bed. Looked like the direct route would have to do. "No horror movies where everyone can see them from now on."

He made his way to the front edge of the bed, glad the backboard was almost the same height of the mattress. Carefully he propped a knee over it and climbed in between the boys already there, a large enough gap there waiting for him. Scooting forward best he could without anyone there, he made for the pillows at the other end and the opening where the sheets were.

Moving like this and carrying a sleeping toddler proved more difficult than he imagined, and must have looked ridiculous. Dick was smothering snickers as he watched. Bruce shot him an annoyed glare as he made it to his destination. The teen just batted his eyes innocently in response. The man shook his head, internally groaning in exasperation. "Go get some sleep Dick."

"'Kay," he shrugged, turning to the door. Satisfied, Bruce placed Damian temporarily on the pillows so he could readjust the blankets to cover Jason, himself and the babe. Just as he managed to get himself under and started putting Damian in place on top of him, he felt tugging on Tim's end. Jerking his eyes up, he gaped as Dick tucked himself in on the kid's opposite side.

"Dick!" came his harsh whisper.

Their eyes locked onto each other, the younger raising an eyebrow. "What? You honestly think I'm gonna miss this?"

Bruce continued to gape at him as he gave his winning smile and went back to snuggling under the covers. One of the teen's arms went across his younger brother next to him, which received a response quite quickly, with Tim switching sides and unconsciously seeking his brother's warmth. It won a smile from both of those awake, so the man relented and just settled down to sleep at last. Damian rested across his chest, drooling a little on his father's shoulder while Jason shifted closer to the massive amount of body heat next to him. Cass even shifted, coming closer to the center of the bed to have some of that warmth they were all seeking. It was quite a sight to see.

"G'night Bruce," Dick murmured as he started to drift off, holding Tim just a little closer.

"Night Dick." As everyone's breathing evened out, only one thought came to the man's head. '_I need to get a bigger bed._'

* * *

A/N: =P Bruce's bed gets crowded way too easily. Is there anything bigger than a California King? and can that fit one large adult, a couple growing teens, two elementry kids and a toddler? Then there's the weight factor... Oh, Jason got to control the movie because this was just after DITF/LPFD. Trying to prove he was tough kinda backfired.

Any other short ideas you want before I go back to build up? I wanna finish writing 'Sacrifice' before posting any of it and the build up is pretty important in my book. Not always pleasant, but needed. Can be Pre-Dami, in between arc chapters, any of it. I do have a lot of ideas, but with the build up and everything else, it's kinda all on back burner. Prompting can get it back out though. Think about it.


	37. Sins of the Father

It's about time I got a Cass only fic done! Thanks to whomever suggested this one. it was actually rather good. Beware, fluffiness and violence below. Question after. Pre-Dami

Cass-9

* * *

**Sins of the Father**

This normally didn't happen. Cassandra normally wasn't the one taken by madmen or assassins. That was usually Tim or Dick. Those just after money or to threaten their father went after her. And yet here she was, half drugged, duck taped around her wrists, ankles, and mouth, thrown to a floor haphazardly. And a mad assassin was to blame.

Mouth covered and other bindings keeping her in place, it was hard for her to move. The drugs didn't help either. She tried to look around, get a feel for the place, but all she could really tell was it was old, made of wood, and dark. Some kind of old shed? There were tools all over the place, garden variety. Some fertilizer too. The person who took her must have killed the gardener who owned it. She could see parts of a hand over in one part of the room, and the horrible smells weren't just from the manure.

"Are we awake now precious?"

Cass tried to even out her breathing, make it look like she wasn't. Rule 5. She normally wasn't kidnapped (broke arms, noses, insteps and guns to stop attempts) but when she was she followed that one rule to the letter. Her dad made it for a reason. Psychotic assassins were key among them no doubt.

But this wasn't your typical psycho or killer. This one was smart, and didn't fall for her act. "Oh, you are. Good. I want you awake for as long as possible." He took a sickle off the wall and took a step closer to her. "I want you to know, for your dad to know, exactly what kind of pain he put me through. Put my wife through."

She barely managed to roll away from the thing striking her. Her heart threatened to race out of her closed throat but she focused on keeping it at a steady rate as her training taught her. The man made another swipe at her, barely missing skin but tearing her clothes. Fumbling to turn her watch, to activate her alarm, she split her attention between evading attacks and trying to get his swipes to cut her binds. Wasn't working too well.

A few more wild swipes later and blood was drawn. Cass didn't even wince as something little deeper than a cut appeared on her arm. Wincing, flinching, crying at such minor wounds, that was taken out of her a long time ago. Fear though still came. Especially when the crazy above her grinned like a maniac. "How does that feel girly? Good? Bad? I bet that hurts. I hope it does. But what your old man did to my Shawna was much, much worse."

'_Shawna?_' Part of the girl thought long and hard about the name as she continued to try and dodge the sickle, bound and injured. Had her father ever dated anyone named Shawna? The detective part of her, the one skill instilled in them by their adoptive parent they all shared, nagged at her that this was important. Somehow. But try as she might, she couldn't recall any Shawna ever entering the manor. A kick to the gut stopped her train of thought, and her dodging.

"Hold still brat!" He grabbed her by her hair and yanked her up to face him, the dull part of the sickle brushing across her face. Cass glared at him coldly, which made the man smirk, amused. "You know what? You look a lot like your mom. Shame she threw her hand in with that cretin. I actually respect her."

'_Crap._' For once in her life she desperately wanted to talk to the man. Maybe she could convince him to leave her alone, to hunt down the man really responsible for whatever happened to Shawna. A second blow to her abdomen drove what breath she had out of her, making her see stars and not the sickle as it drove itself against her leg. Feeling the long gash going beside a major artery, she actually did flinch a little. Her school uniform would not survive the afternoon, whether she did or not.

"Much better you brat." She could hear his insane smile. "Now be a good little girl and we'll see how well you fair after fifty lashings."

Again he brought the sickle down, tearing through her blouse and scraping against her chest. Shallow, a graze. Another strike tore muscle in her left shoulder. A third, deeper cut across her chest. A fourth, swipe across both her thighs just above her knees, flesh only.

As he raised his hand for a fifth go, a high pitched scream, ultra-sonic even, blasted through a crack between wooden boards on the wall, sending the madman flying into the opposing wall. Both walls now bore gaping holes, letting the late afternoon sun pour in and frame two individuals rushing inside. The blond woman came to her side first, looking Cass over and removing the tape across her mouth.

"Oh my Lo—Honey, are you alright? Can you tell me what's going on? Talk to me!"

The girl just gaped at the woman, slightly in shock. Wasn't this Black Canary? And the one behind her chasing down her assailant Green Arrow? Didn't they work in Star City? Barely joined the League about a month ago. What were they doing rescuing her? They hadn't even met yet. It should have been…

Blood loss and the remaining drugs in her system finally took hold on her, adrenalin draining. Total blackout.

* * *

"Is she really going to be alright?" a woman asked, very concerned.

"Miss," a familiar grandmotherly voice replied, "I assure you, she's going to be quite alright. You don't have to stay for her father to a—"

"Yes I do!" the lady insisted angrily. "Madsen insisted he was only righting the wrongs her father did when he was attacking her! He has to answer for his crimes!"

"Miss, I know Bruce Wayne very well," the older woman stated firmly. "He would do nothing to endanger the lives of his children. Even stopped his wild years, his favorite activities, just to raise them. Whatever that villain said, I am confident they're the ravings of a mad man!"

"Wrong father." Cass would have groaned in pain if that too wasn't taken out of her when she was younger. She learned to groan for other things though living in an entirely different lifestyle. She could hear the other two women jerking around at her voice and felt a needle poking into her left arm, along with a lot of gauze, bandages and stitches. Worse yet, she felt lightheaded, nauseous, and weak. She hadn't felt this bad in a long time.

"Don't move Cassandra," the older woman started, putting a light hand on her chest to keep the girl there. "You lost a lot of blood and there was a tranquilizer in your system."

"Fun." Now was a time she would groan, finally opening her eyes. Sarcasm was one other language she understood with ease. Body language and voice tones were the key to it all, and that was her first method of communication. Too bad she was too tired and worn to care. "Where?"

"My clinic of course." The girl looked over to the familiar voice and pieced it together. Leslie Thompkins. She hadn't seen her since her last round of shots, at least that she could remember. Leslie was after all an old friend of her father's. "You do remember who I am, right?"

Cass nodded, then leaned her head back to avoid feeling anymore dizziness. Too soon to move. "How?"

"This young woman here brought you," the doctor stated calmly, pointing to the blond. "I'm afraid I didn't catch her name."

"Black Canary," she introduced herself, trying to be as calm and sweet as possible for the girl's sake. "It's nice to meet you Cassie. You're a very brave girl, not showing any fear to that monster."

'_Cassie?_' She turned her head slightly to get a better look at the woman, giving her a confused look. No one called her 'Cassie' unless they were trying to make friends for their own benefits. Or was Jason, once in a while.

"Now I know this is hard," Canary started, trying to be reassuring, "but I need to ask you a few questions."

"Personally I think it'd be better to wait for the police or her _father_ first," Leslie near growled.

"It's her _father_ I want to ask questions about," the woman rebutted with a slight snarl. Clearly this was what they were arguing about.

"Wrong father," Cass repeated. Black Canary looked at her confused while Dr. Thompkins gave a growing understanding gaze. Calmly she continued, keeping perfectly still as she explained. "I'm adopted. First father, very bad man. Mother too. Dad now good man. Where?"

"He'll be here shortly," Leslie insisted in a soothing voice, smoothing out her hair for reassurance. "Had to make sure your brothers wouldn't tag along first. You know they won't let you rest."

That won a smile from the girl. Boy did she know it. Dick would be all hugs and pampering, Timmy would be fretting about, occasionally hugging and asking if he could do something for her, and Jason would be demanding details on the assailant in order to try and track him down to pound him on his own. It was nice to have brothers who cared, but she needed quiet to heal. The IV drip she was on wasn't a pain killer, but a blood transfusion. She really shouldn't be bothered.

"Wait," the vigilante started, confused, "what's this about bad parents and a second dad?"

"It means," a very welcomed male voice started as he entered the room, "that her biological parents are criminals who abused her and she was removed from their custody and placed into mine."

Cass lifted her head up to see the man better, her heart lifting as soon as he was there. "Dad."

"And I rather leave their identities a mystery if you don't mind Black Canary," Bruce continued, striding over to his daughter's side. "For her sake. How are you feeling Cass? Little sick?"

She nodded, some tears coming to her eyes. She could read his body with a glance now, but when they first met he was a hard person to read. But then and now, he told her the same things without meaning to. 'I'm sorry you were hurt. I'll do everything I can to make you feel better again. You did nothing wrong. I'm here for you. You don't have to talk.'

"Do you need to throw up?" A slight shake of her head told him no. The worried father looked over to his most trusted doctor. "Is there anything you can give her to help?"

"Not yet," Leslie stated quickly, bringing up a chart. "According to the toxicology screens, that man had used a tranquilizer on her. It'll pass through her system completely in about an hour, then I can prescribe some medication. Any idea who that man was and why he would—"

"I'm having people look into it." Bruce looked over to Black Canary again. "You saved her right? You and Green Arrow?"

"Right." The woman folded her arms, taking a good long look over the billionaire. "We were seeing what the rest of the League had invested in this town then heard an old 'friend' of GA's was in town. Didn't know he kidnapped anyone until after checking out his hideout. Green Arrow's booking Madsen right now. He should get death row for what he did to that gardener.

"What I still don't understand," she continued, her eyes narrowing, "is why he went after your daughter. He doesn't usually go after people without a contract on their heads, and never kids. Why was he—"

"Like I said," he turned back fully to his daughter, wanting to scoop her up and take her home, "her biological parents are really bad people. Same business as his I fear."

That shut the woman up, especially as she looked at the girl starting to tremble slightly then she brought up the psycho and her dad brought up her parents to shut her up. Wayne was holding onto her stronger hand, stroking it soothingly in an attempt to comfort her. Canary had a feeling if the doctor allowed, he'd be holding her right then to ease her troubles away, but her injuries were too extensive for that yet.

Feeling a little guilty, Black Canary backed off. "I see. In any case, I think my work's done here. Be careful going home you two."

"Same to you," Bruce murmured, not looking at her.

Before the woman could leave though, Cass spoke up. "Thank you. My life saved. Thanks to you."

The heroine looked at her grateful face and smiled graciously. "You're very welcome."

* * *

Bruce was able to take his daughter home later that night thankfully, but by the time he arrived the boys were already in bed, too tired to welcome them home. Slowly he carried Cass up the stairs towards her bedroom, hoping to get her to rest peacefully that night. The tranquilizer the madman gave her had worn off and now Leslie's prescription was working wonderfully in keeping the pain away. It helped to keep her still so her wounds could heal properly too.

Cass snuggled up under her father's coat, going in and out of consciousness as they traveled. It was warm and safe there, and she knew this man wouldn't force her to do anything she didn't want to or wasn't good. Except maybe make her go to bed when she was quite comfortable where she was. She grunted loudly as he tried to set her down in her bed. The man shook his head, slightly amused.

"Cassandra, you need to rest."

"Stay. Warm. Comfy."

Bruce gave a soft sigh. "I can't wait until the medication's no longer needed and you make normal sentences again."

"Dad, please stay with me." Her brown eyes bore straight into his grey ones, begging for him to remain where he was. She knew with all that happened that day, the memories that were stirred at the mentioning of her biological parents, and the medication in her body, that she would have terrible nightmares. Only the strength of this man, this man who was more a father to her then the one who consumed the first six and a half years of her life, could chase them away. She needed him to stay.

Seeing her plea, the man relented. "Alright." He kept her bundled up in his jacket a moment longer as he took her from her room and to the giant bed in his own. Kicking off his shoes and not bothering to change, he carefully tucked the two of them in. Part of him tried to remember the last time he had done this, but the occasion was fairly rare with her. Gently they laid down and he kissed her head to encourage her to sleep.

"Dad?"

"Hm?" Her weak voice always drew his attention, even when they were bone tired.

"Why did that man do this? Why hurt me? What I do wrong?" The question had been buzzing in her mind somewhere for a while now, but she hadn't dared force it. She understood that it was that other man's fault, but why attack her? She had nothing to do with him anymore.

Bruce gave a long sigh before trying to explain. "Some people think the sins of the father can be atoned by taking out their rage on their child. You did nothing wrong, nothing at all. Madsen was just insane from grief, blamed David Cain, and thought he could hurt the man by hurting you."

"Did it work?"

"We'll never know." He lost track of that assassin quite some time ago. They only met once, when Bruce assured him that his daughter would be well cared for from now on, and even then it wasn't face to face. The man escaped custody, but did nothing to claim back his child. He had more contact with Cass' mother than him. "I don't keep tabs on him, just make sure he can't get to you."

She nodded silently, glad that was the case. After a moment more of silence, she asked, "Does watch work?"

"I'll check it in the morning. Get some rest." Really, late nights, nine year olds, pain killers, and she was still talking, albeit incoherently.

"MmHmmm…" Her head rested fully on his shoulder. "Love you Daddy," came her voice at a near whisper.

Bruce couldn't stop from smiling with that. "Love you too Cass."

* * *

A/N: awe! yeah the ending's a little too fluffy and sickening sweet, but it's better than leaving it at Canary saying 'you're welcome'. Now that I've established that they know who her parents are, I think I'll let David Cain rest for a while. There is a later arc, much later, where he's involved but it doesn't have a title yet. If you can figure out what particular cannon batman story it'll cover, say so. If you're right, I'll be asking for any material you have on it because I can't find it physically! *pulls hair* and it feels so important for them!

*breathes* so, the question: I want to bring in the Arrow family, but haven't figured out exactly how to bring them into the League. They, being Ollie and Dinah, might be the only non-founders who know the truth for a long while, mostly because I really like those two on TV *waiting for Arrow to come out and see how they pull it off*. So, Ideas? I'm thinking of Hal talking to Bruce or maybe Bruce talking to Ollie or Dinah... details are so vague there I haven't figured it out. I want to get them in the League before bringing Roy into the kids' lives a bit and this has to happen before 'Sacrifice'. Ideas? Please share.

I think I may have covered everything. Any more ideas for Cass fics is still good. And if you know how to do a good song fic (there's two songs I wanna put in here eventually because they're awesome) tell me. thanks! ^^V


	38. One With the Broom

Well, should be doing a lot of other writing, but I was listening to this one piece by The Cab on Pandora and started doing this with a hairbrush. THen I remembered a youtube vid that's awesome with Jason and this piece. So I had to do this, real fast. Plus review were at 666, and I thought I should change that before bed. =P Enjoy!

Jason-13 Tim-9

* * *

**One With the Broom**

Okay, so he broke a Ming vase, big whoop. That was no reason for Alfred to give Jason the evil eye. A broom and dustpan, yes, but not the eye! A wet cloth for little pieces he missed, sure, but not having his cookie privileges taken away! Why was Alfred so cruel some times?! Worst yet, his punishment was to clean the entire hallway he was using for bowling practice.

At least Alfred was nice enough to let him have his iPod and listen to tunes while he worked. Would have been pure hell if he didn't have something to take his mind off of it. Majority of his music was fun and bouncy, something you could really sink your teeth into. Edgier, usually with electric guitars, drums, and occasionally a violin (don't dis the violin. Those people are good!). He was nearly done when one of his favorite pieces started playing.

And frankly he could never keep still when it went on. He sometimes even sang along.

And with a broom in his hands, he really couldn't resist.

"Get out your guns, battle's begun, are you a saint or a sinner?" the former street rat sang into his imaginary mike on the end of the broom. "If love's a fight, then I shall die, with my heart on a trigger! They say before you start a war, you better know what you're fighting for. Well baby, you're all that I adore! If love is what you need, a soldier I will be!"

He leaned over with the broom, pretending he was being dramatic with the stand as he poured out his soul over the chorus. "I'm an angel with a shotgun! Fightin' til the wars won! I don't care if Heaven won't take me back! I'll throw away my faith, babe, just to keep you safe! Don't you know you're everything I have! And IIIiiiiIIiiiiii… wanna live, not just survive…. Tonight!"

Jason turned sharply, imaging himself on a stage in front of fans and trying to be oh so attractive as he started the next verse. "Sometimes to win, you've got to sin! Don't mean I'm not a believer. And Major Tom, will sing along. Yeah, they still say I'm a dreamer!"

"You sure are." The teen jerked around to see Tim watching him sing, amused. His brother gave him an annoyed glare before deciding to milk this for all it was worth anyway. Why should the twerp dictate whether he had fun or not?

"They say before you start a war," he got into the little genius' face as he continued to sing, "you better know what you're fighting for. Well baby, you're all that I adore! If love is what you need, a soldier I will be!"

"If you insist," the kid commented, not flinching as he continued to watch his entertainment.

"I'm an angel with a shotgun! Fightin' til the wars won! I don't care if Heaven won't take me back! I'll throw away my faith, babe, just to keep you safe! Don't you know you're everything I have! And IIIiiiiIIiiiiii… wanna live, not just survive, tonight." A grin on his face, Jason started strumming the broom, carrying it like a guitar during the 'Oohh's and 'whoa's. His kid brother laughed at him, only to jerk back when he got into his face nearly deadly serious as he sang the next part. "I'm an angel with a shotgun. Fightin' til the wars won. I don't care if Heaven won't take me back…."

Just before the next run of the chorus started, he leapt back to full height a couple steps away from him, still playing guitar with the broom. "I'm an angel with a shotgun! Fightin' til the wars won! I don't care if Heaven won't take me back! I'll throw away my faith, babe, just to keep you safe! Don't you know you're everything I have! And IIIiiiiIIiiiiii… wanna live, not just survive, tonight. And I'm gonna hide, hide, hide my wings tonight!"

He brought the broom back up to its upright position, giving his face the perfect image of sincerity, before finishing the piece into the handle. "They say before you start a war, you better know what you're fighting for. Well baby, you're all that I adore. If love is what you need, a soldier I will be…."

Bowing dramatically, Jason received a laughing applause from Tim, demanding an encore. "Thank you, thank you. My next piece is going to be, 'Better Luck Next Time Timbo!'"

"Ah come on!" The kid demanded, following him back to his filled dustpan, bag of broken glass, and ruined rags. "You've got a great voice! You should be a singer."

"Ah, no thanks." He finished putting all the trash together to take it down to the garage and the cans stored there. "Still freak out at talent show tryouts. I think I'll just stay one with the broom and hairbrush mikes if you don't mind."

Tim pouted, thinking it was such a waste. "Too bad. I like it when you sing."

"Yeah, except that I break rule 2 all the time with my tunes." Jason grinned at that. He liked that song on multiple levels, and that was one of them. It was so him. "Dad would throw a fit if he heard me singing that."

"Maybe." His kid brother just grinned after him. "But I still like hearing you sing."

* * *

A/N: my sister did this all the time in college, except it was to beach boys. Come to think of it, we did this at home at random too, to 'Fiddler on the Roof' soundtracks. Don't you think 'Angel with a Shotgun' suits Jason perfectly?! Course this is kinda my first song fic (not intended, seriously) unless you count caroling one too. hope it wasn't too bad.

Well back to writing more serious stuff and trying to play catch up.


	39. Preventing Tornados

Just an explanation for the title's sake: Tornados are storms. Very prominent in Kansas. They aren't appearing in this story, but you could say they're trying to avoid a certain storm. Events in this one are important for a part in Sacrifice, that's all. More build up. Enjoy!

Dick-16 Jason-12 Cass-11 Tim-8 Damian-2

* * *

**Preventing Tornados**

"You're getting quite good at that," Jonathan Kent murmured, looking at the cane head Jason was working on. The near teen grinned at him proudly. He was rather fond of the wooden handle he was whittling: an owl's head, and it was rather detailed. The army knife the Kents gave him last Christmas was much better than the one he snatched when he was on the streets. "You hardly need my help these days."

"Ah come on! I'm not near as good as you Gramps." He pointed to the chair the man was carving out for his wife. Beautiful design, but he was taking his dear sweet time with it too.

"Just time and practice," the old man assured him. "You'll far exceed me one of these days Jason. Though I'm beginning to think your brother should stick with the basics."

"Ow!" Dick nicked his hand for the third time that afternoon, still trying to make a bear out of his block of wood. It looked more like a pig at the moment, and he had been working on it longer than Jay was with his cane. Quickly the cut went into his mouth and he turned towards the others. "How on earth can you do this?!"

"Takes patience," Pa Kent insisted, "and occasional misses."

"And talent." Jason grinned devilishly at him. "Which I happen to have more of this time than you."

The teen glared at his brother for a minute. "You do realize I have a knife in my hand right now."

"So do I."

"I'm a better aim."

"I'm louder."

"And I say no to both of you." They stopped their banter at Pa's disapproving look. He sighed heavily as they looked away from him. "Seriously, do you two have to argue?"

"Better than being silent." Mentally they both agreed, not wanting to elaborate. After a minute more of trying, Dick gave up, folding his knife away before setting the project aside. "I give. Guess I'll have to think of something else."

"Seriously, what were you trying to do?" The younger teen looked over to the half-done project. It had toppled onto its side, exposing the 'R' in the circle on its base, Dick's 'personal seal of approval'. Jason could probably save it, if Dick let him.

But the guy wouldn't. He just shrugged it away. "Fill in the time. Think I'll go bug Grandma in the kitchen, see if she needs anything."

"More like raid the cookie jar."

His brother didn't even acknowledge that one with an answer; just took his knife and left for the house. Within five minutes he was in the kitchen where Martha Kent was helping Damian with finger paints. Dressed in old shirts, the two of them were covered in colors and making a mess out of some old newspapers. "Wow, that looks like fun."

"Can be." The woman gave him an encouraging smile. "Care to join us?"

"Maybe another time?" He held up his lightly bleeding hands. "Where are the Band-Aids?"

"I think we ran out yesterday," she admitted with a cringe. "When Tim tried to chase down the rooster down the gravel path."

Dick winced at the memory. Genius or no, Tim still wasn't that coordinated yet, and chased chickens. "Right…" He looked past the walls, imagining where the Kent's truck would be. "Hey, mind if I drive into town and get some then? I could also pick up something for you guys while I'm out."

Ma shrugged. "Fine by me, but shouldn't you ask your father?"

He looked at the ground sheepishly. They really couldn't bring the Kents in on this. "I was hoping to use your guys' truck, you know, keep a low profile and all that."

"And skip out on your dad?" This was not someone who could be easily fooled. Something was up if he was asking her and not Bruce.

The teen just cringed at her accusation. "I'll be staying on the grid, and really where would I run off to?" She gave him the doubting mother look which really put him in his place. "Look, I've got cabin fever and I just don't see Bruce letting me have a few hours away right now. If it's an errand from you, he'll be fine with it. Seriously, it's not a big deal."

"Uh huh…" She kept that look on him, skeptic. After a few awkward moments, she relented. "Fine. We need Band-aids, butter, salt, and toilet paper. And if you want a tasty t-r-e-a-t tonight, pick it out. And tell Alfred where you're going at the least. I think I saw him go upstairs."

Dick grinned. "Thanks! Nice picture Dami." And with that he ran out of the room and up the stairs. Martha gave a short sigh, shaking her head at the boy's teenage rebellion. He really was easy to read, and acted so much like Clark sometimes it was scary. It wasn't three minutes later when she heard him racing back down stairs, grabbing the truck's keys. "Catch ya later Grandma Kent!"

"Be careful," she replied automatically. The door slammed behind him, shaking the pictures on the walls. Again she sighed. Really, what was with teenagers and slamming doors? Then again, Jonathan still did it. The woman went back to helping the toddler with his art project. "How about we put a sun in this corner, okay?"

Five minutes the door jerked open again. "Tim's coming with me! We'll be back in about two hours!"

"What?" The door slammed shut again before her question could be answered. Well it wasn't really a question, but it was enough for someone to try and explain their actions. Really… That boy wasn't this frustrating when they first met. Ma Kent rose from her seat for a moment before giving up. She was too old to go chasing after teenage boys. "Oh dear. This is going to be interesting when your father finds out."

"Look!" Damian pointed to his latest creation, completely ignoring the events surrounding him. "Gween Kitty!"

"Very nice," she encouraged, giving him a smile. "Just don't paint any real cats green, okay? They don't like it."

"Okey." He put the paper back on the table and went back to making a colorful mess. Cassandra came in about ten minutes later, reading one of the Kents' children's books with one hand and going towards the cookie jar with the other. A soft cough from the old woman stopped her in her tracks, made her turn towards her, and gave her a sheepish grin.

"What are you supposed to do before taking cookies?" Ma Kent demanded, nearly folding her arms as she looked at the girl.

"Make sure there aren't any witnesses?" Her answer only made the woman glare. Subtle guilt filled the girl's face.

"You're supposed to ask."

"Jason said—"

Martha groaned to herself. Of course. These kids made a habit of being sneaky and Cass listened to her brothers when it came to obtaining what they wanted. Cookies and any unhealthy treats were top of the list most days. Alfred had warned her of course to have a jar that made noise, but she didn't think it was necessary, until then. "Jason doesn't rule this kitchen. In this house, you _ask_ first."

"But…" she looked over to Damian who was listening even if he was pretending to only be looking at his paints. The lady had forgotten to spell out the treat around him. The toddler was quite quick to respond to certain words and 'cookie' was among them. Cass bit her lip for a moment before hesitantly asking, "May I have one?"

"One what?" Almost on cue Bruce and Clark entered through the kitchen entrance, wondering what they were talking about. Her father raised an eyebrow at the girl who just inclined her head to the jar. "Oh."

Clark chuckled fondly. "Ma's always been keeping my hand out of that jar, ever since I was able to run."

"Only one," the lady stated flatly, smirking at her son. At her invitation, both the alien and the girl's hands flew to the jar to claim their prizes. Mrs. Kent shook her head in amusement before looking over to the other man. "Dick took Tim to town to pick up a few things for me."

"He what?" Some surprise appeared on his face along with confusion. "Why did he…"

"Said he was getting cabin fever," she explained, shrugging. "I'm guessing Tim just wanted to tag along. Is that a problem?"

Bruce looked away for a moment, thinking about it with some concern. His daughter saw his expression and quickly made her way out of the room with her book. She was not getting in the middle of whatever he was thinking about. Hesitantly he started talking. "No, not a problem… Smallville's a fairly safe place and we're anonyms here… He's gotten better at driving and Tim is big enough…"

"How long has he had his license?" Clark wondered out loud, stopping his vocal train of thought.

"About a month, but he took drivers ed and had top scores. He's actually very responsible behind a wheel. Lead foot, but cautious."

"Then why are you so uneasy?" The Kents kept their eyes on the billionaire. The man looked way, still unsure for some reason. "If Dick's going to be fine…"

"I've… been wanting to talk to you actually," he started, very unsure, "about him."

* * *

One thing Dick always wanted to do was all his shopping at a gas station. Now that he had a license, he was planning on doing this more often. He missed the days at the circus when they were on the road and stopped at these small ones around the country. They always had the most interesting tourist displays.

"So Smallville's famous for its… corn?" Tim looked over the refrigerator magnets with some level of distaste. They were ears of corns with the city's name across them. Kinda tacky.

Dick shrugged. "I think Clark mentioned something about a corn festival once. Dunno if they're famous for it but…"

The two exchanged creeped out looks before going to other displays to fool around. One of the local boys was filling up the truck's tank so the two of them were allowed to wander for a while. So far they'd played with the markers, the postcards, cups, magnets, and now split up to play with hats and key chains right next to each other. It really bugged the other guy manning the counter.

"Hey look!" Tim took off several different key chains with their names on it. They all looked like Kansas corn. "They have everyone but Damian here! And two for me!"

"Really?" The teenager tilted the cowboy hat on his head in slight curiosity. Looking over them, he had to admit he was right. "Wait… Where's Bruce?"

"That's not here, but Dad is." He showed his brother the small collection he put together, including one with Clark's name on it. Alfred was even in the collection. "Selina's not here either."

"Looking for souvenirs?" Dick plopped the cowboy hat on the kid's head before taking a trucker's hat with a fake ferret on it.

"No, just looking for names."

"Your truck's ready." The guy about Dick's age who was filling up the tank came back inside, eyeing the two of them with distaste. It was so obvious they weren't locals."

"Thanks!" The older boy looked at his kid brother and took the hat away. "Come on. We need to pick up those things and pay, got it? I'll take the food stuff and you take care of the other things, 'kay?"

Tim pouted slightly. He was having fun. Giving in with a sigh, "Fine. But I want to pick the ice cream flavor."

"Cookies and Cream?" The kid's instant smile was all he needed to confirm. He ruffled the boy's hair and immediately the two went to work. Within five minutes the two were at the front counter with their items, including some soda for the trip home. They never could get away with this when Alfred or Bruce took them on outings. Laughing at each other's sugary selection, they took their purchases to the truck without a second thought. Though Dick had left a substantial tip for the guy who took care of the Kents' truck.

The man who had watched them parading around the place like casual tourists glared at their backs. He now had to fix the mess they made while they were there. "Messy little brats."

* * *

"Honestly," Jonathan Kent admitted, "we were relieved Clark was dating at all."

"Pa!" Said man gave his dad an incredulous look, turning red slightly.

They spent the majority of the time the teen was gone talking about the arguments Dick and Bruce had over dating and teenage independence. They gave the billionaire a lot to think about. He heard several stories about his friend's childhood from the parents' perspective along with his. Very enlightening, but it still didn't lighten the hesitant feelings over the matter. He was still unsure if he did the right thing or if all he was doing was pushing his son away from him.

The old man shrugged, grinning slightly. "Well really, think about it Clark. You were always so worried you'd hurt the cows with your super strength. And then when May Fielding had her baby, you were so scared you were going to hurt her with your hands you nearly dropped her."

"We were scared you'd never want anything more than a friendship with a girl," his mother piped in, smirking slightly. "When you told us you were going to prom with Lana, well… we thought we were the ones flying. Such a relief."

"Course that was after he stopped breaking eggs on accident," his dad admitted. "How many did we lose before you could win an egg toss blindfolded?"

"The important thing is Bruce," Martha butted in as Clark groaned at the memory, putting the topic back on track, "is to give him some leeway. He's a teenager isn't he? And one more year of school left."

"Don't remind me," the man nearly groaned. He did not want to think about the kid's senior year coming up shortly.

"Well you're just going to have to accept he's growing up. Kids grow up and leave the nest." She smirked slightly, looking over to her son for a moment fondly. "We had to accept it too. Some always come home like Clark does, but I have friends who's kids only visit once in a long while, never call, never write, and are in general forgotten by their kids. Others have very hard feelings between them. Is that what you want between you and Dick?"

Bruce looked away, troubled. One thing he couldn't take was Dick being mad at him. Lately they hadn't been talking, really talking, like they used to. The two of them were very close right after they took down Zucco. Even when the others came into their lives, they were close. Maybe closer because Dick loved being a good big brother and helping out.

And yet lately… They couldn't banter, their inside jokes weren't coming out, and Dick was still mad at him for forbidding him to date whomever he pleased. The man even enforced a curfew for him now, setting limitations on when he could go out and how late could be. Dick purposely avoided him on some occasions, at least avoided being alone together. And he was always trying to one-up him or prove he was older than he looked. Always a 'see? I can do this fine _without_ you'.

Maybe he was over reacting, a little. He certainly didn't want to drive the kid away from him. But he wasn't about to let the boy make any huge mistakes if he could help it. "Of course not. I just…"

The front door was yanked open. "We're back!"

Bruce winced, looking over to where the toddler was napping just a second ago. Dick and Tim's arrival though ended that. The Kents were all caught between wincing and laughing to themselves. Within seconds Damian was up and whining loudly at being disturbed. "Dick…"

The two arrivals just entered the kitchen carrying their bags and barely heard the youngest start crying, along with the exclamation. Confused, the teen cocked his head at them. "What?"

* * *

Bruce settled on the porch steps with a case of beer nearby. He anticipated company soon, but it was sometimes nice to just think and look at the stars alone too. He really had a lot to think about. Different members of the League were restless and he had to figure out how to keep them all in harmony so all they built didn't fall apart. Roland Dagget had tried to take over the east side of Gotham and he needed to make sure he couldn't attempt it a second time; Leslie was counting on him for that one. Someone had hacked into the electronic versions of his children's adoption papers and deceased parents' wills; this time no damage was done, but another time had to be prevented. And then there was his ever present unease between himself and his eldest son. That one really took over his mind the most, the other problems simple in compare.

'_He's sixteen._' The thought almost overwhelmed him. It felt like yesterday he was helping the eight year old walk away from the scene of his parents' murder. That yesterday they had taken down a crime lord together. Yesterday when he swore to protect and raise him over being the dark knight of Gotham City. Had eight years really gone by that fast? So much had happened and yet it was like nothing he ever knew. One more year and he'd be done with high school. Two more and…

"Penny for your thoughts?" Clark stood just over his shoulder, smiling pleasantly.

Bruce grunted. "I don't think you could afford them." He took a bottle out of his case and opened it, not sure if he'd drink or not.

His friend sat down on the other end of the steps, leaning against the support beam as he took a bottle for himself. "Try me." The mortal kept silent, looking forward into nothing. The alien watched him for a moment before making his own assumptions. "You know, ignoring it isn't going to make time stand still. Dick's going to grow up whether you like it or not. They all are."

"I know." Grimly he took a sip from his bottle, really not wanting to think about it. Yet his mind wouldn't let him.

"Sure don't act it." The reporter smirked to himself. "I've heard it straight from him. Curfews, fuel restrictions, forbidding him to date, even a good friend you've known longer than him—"

"Barbara is not the problem," he snapped, glaring slightly at the alien. "It's the fact she's eighteen and he's not—"

"Everyone blossoms at their own rate Bruce. Some earlier than others." Clark smirked at him. "Alfred told me your first date was at twenty-two. Really?"

Bruce rolled his eyes, looking forward once again so he didn't have to see the man's smug face. "I was preoccupied."

"Well Dick isn't. And whose fault is that?" That one struck home, making the CEO lower his bottle. Maybe if he had remained Batman and made Dick his… sidekick… things wouldn't have turned out this way. Being preoccupied with crime fighting may have overcome teenage hormones. "He just happens to be an early bloomer.

"And you should be proud of him," the farm boy continued. "He hasn't done anything extreme against you and is taking everything very responsibly. I'm not saying stepping in between him and an eighteen year old wasn't the right course of action, but come on Bruce, let him live a little! I made a lot of mistakes here growing up. Sometimes it's the only way to learn, and one day you really have to cut the umbilical cord."

"You don't know him like I do Kent," he retorted sharply, trying to ignore the truth in those words. "You haven't heard him cry himself to sleep at night. He still pulls childish pranks whenever it suits him. He carelessly parades around town where anyone could shoot him."

"He also comforts his siblings when you aren't around," Clark started, glaring lightly at the man. "He'll be driving them to school soon too. He took charge after Jason was hurt: taking after his siblings, organizing Joker's capture while you were emotionally compromised, and making sure you didn't do something you'd regret the next day. I was there to see how he pulled everyone together then. Dick's actually a very resourceful and responsible leader. You shouldn't be putting him down like this."

"I'm not…" Bruce found he couldn't complete that statement. Was he putting his son down? He ran a hand through his hair. "I just… I don't want him to get hurt."

"No one ever does. But that's part of growing up." He cocked his head to the side, looking him over. "He's turned out quite well. You really should be proud of him."

"I am." He lifted his beer to his lips. "I just think it's too soon for him to grow up."

"You want him to be a kid forever?"

"That's not what I meant."

"Uh huh." Clark shook his head, smirking slightly as he rolled his eyes. Bruce really did not want to let—He stopped and looked at one part of the ceiling, confused. "Huh?"

Bruce noticed his pause and looked up as well, seeing only the wood above him. But that was also just below the boys' temporary room. He heard something shifting above them. One conclusion.

"Dick…"

"For the record," the teenager's voice came from above them, "I was here first."

"What are you doing up there?" The alien could not fathom why the guy would be laying on top of the porch's awning above them, especially after everyone else was supposedly in bed.

"Well honestly," Dick started, peeking his head down over the ledge above them, "I was watching the stars come out. It gets a little crowded in there sometimes so I came outside to cool off for a bit. Too many bugs for all night, and then there's the birds who might think I'm tasty. I was going to go back in but then you two started talking and…" He gave a sheepish grin. "Couldn't resist."

"Get down from there before you break something," Bruce ordered, slightly annoyed. The teen rolled his eyes, then back flipped off of the roof to the ground below. Had the elderly Kents seen it, they would have been upset. But both Bruce and Clark were used to his antics, not bothering to berate him for this. "Eavesdropping isn't a good habit."

Dick shrugged. "Only if I get caught. Is that beer?"

"Uh… Yeah…" Clark twisted his lips looking at their drink of choice.

"Can I have some?"

"Not in your life." His old man gave a chiding look before snatching the bottle's cap and putting back on his drink.

"Ah come on!" The teen whined. "Other kids' parents—"

"This time around I have to agree with Bruce." The reporter replaced his cap as well, feeling sheepish. "You're sixteen, not twenty-one. Laws are laws."

"It's a bad habit to have," Bruce added, staying firm. "It only leads to addiction, rehab, and DUIs, if you're lucky."

"You're drinking," Dick pointed out.

"One bottle, if that." He pointed to the case. "The rest is for Clark or his father when we leave. The only kind of beer you're getting until you're of age has 'Root' in its name. It's late. You need to get to bed."

"Only if you come too." The acrobat stubbornly folded his arms, glaring like Alfred would on occasion. "We've got an early day tomorrow and they don't have your favorite coffee here."

Clark choked back a laugh at the two's staring match. For some reason it wasn't as serious as other ones he had seen in the past. After a minute, Bruce relented, setting his half empty bottle next to the case. "Fine. But my bed here's far too small to share with anyone."

"Who said I wanted to join you?" While their audience tried to smother his laughter, the two of them made their way back into the building towards the rooms they were borrowing. About half way there, Dick slid his arms around Bruce's back, stopping him with his hesitant hug. "Um… thanks. You know… for…."

His father stood there stunned for a moment before letting it sink in. He placed his large hands over the teen's smaller ones, smiling slightly. He gave it a moment before he turned around and gave his own hug to the first one to light up his life once more. No words had to be said. They still didn't agree on certain things, but that didn't stop them from caring and trying to see things from the other's perspective. They were still close, despite arguments. And they wouldn't have it any other way.

* * *

A/N: For the first part, I kinda think Jason's better with carving and handling knives than Dick, who's just really good at throwing them. My siblings used to threaten us all the time when we bugged them while they were cooking. So whenever we were mad and had a weapon in our hands, we'd mention it so they'd or we'd shut up. Didn't always work. And whenever we wanted to go out for no real reason, we'd have to ask for some kind of pointless errand. I know, silly, but it's how we were. Second, on long road trips my siblings and I would mess around in gas stations, mostly the tourists displays. I pity those who dealt with the aftermath. Don't think I have to explain the third part. Bruce just knows he's having a hard time letting go. I really wanted the scene where Bruce and Clark are having their 'buddy time' kinda interrupted by Dick who was on the roof first.

So things are kinda fixed between Bruce and Dick, kinda. It's not the argument, but one of many after all. Part of the build up, and they aren't about to let things stay bad between them are they? =] Been working on this one for over a week and I'm still not 100% happy with it. Still would love to know how to drag GA into this world but I'm beginning to remember an old idea too. Anywho, until later.


	40. Greens

Okay, the other kids are going to appear here too, but Dick's the only one who talks for any period of time. Plus gives you a rough timetable. One problem solved at last. Pre-Dami

Dick-14

* * *

**Greens**

"You seriously think I should meet this guy?" Hal looked over Bruce's shoulder with some misgivings. They were looking at footage of some guy imitating Robin Hood over in Star City. Even had the green leggings. "He doesn't even have any powers! Do you even have a clue who he really is?"

"I know exactly who he is, and his partners." The billionaire gave him a shrewd glare. "And aren't you forgetting that without this you're the same as he or I?"

The man lifted the lantern's ring in his hand, startling him. How did he manage to take it off his finger every single time without him knowing?! "Gimme that!"

"Think about it Jordon," he continued, letting his ally take back the ring. "Green Arrow is just like the two of us. All he has is his wits and his bow. His close friend Black Canary is someone I've met before, and the former Justice Society can vouch for her too."

"Those old coots?" Hal wasn't impressed. "Their GL wasn't even part of the Core!"

"Watch it hotshot. Those 'old coots' as you put it, saved the world more times than you have. And that Green Lantern used to be the guardian of Metropolis." Bruce typed away on his computer, bringing up other images for him to see. "Half of them didn't have powers either. I think between them, Green Arrow, Speedy, and myself, we've proven you don't need powers to get this job done. It just helps."

"Whatever." He looked over the archers again and frowned. "Hey, isn't that Speedy a kid?"

"He's about a year older than Dick." This was one thing he wasn't exactly happy about. Oliver Queen was endangering the life of his young ward Roy Harper. From what he could tell, the only reason he initially took the kid in was to make him his sidekick. They hadn't been together for very long though so he was hoping his old schoolmate (from very, very long ago) would somehow wise up and act in the lad's best interest rather than endangering him further. So far he wasn't really thinking clearly as a mentor at all. Ollie even called him not too long ago, asking out of the blue for advice with setting rules for teenagers. It had gotten out quite some time ago how good he was with kids, especially the rambunctious ones. Looked like Roy was giving him some trouble, like a fifteen year old should.

"And you're okay with this?" Hal's doubting tone was well founded.

"Not really," he admitted. "But Speedy started only six months ago and he's actually a faster shot than his mentor. Black Canary picks up their slack and has been teaching him on the side. They're doing their best to keep him safe in the field, and he's fifteen, not eight. Maybe if Dick was older back then, I would have considered making him my sidekick. But as it stands, I don't have a say in the matter."

The space cop eyed him for a moment. "Sounds like you have everything covered with him. Why do you need me to talk to him? Why not do it yourself?"

Internally Bruce groaned. "Because I don't want to reveal any cards should he refuse. And I don't…" Honestly he wasn't sure how he'd be received by the archer, being as they used to be schoolmates when they were kids in that boarding school long ago and they didn't exactly get along. They only met a few times since and that last time he flirted with his girlfriend Dinah to pass the time. Oliver asking for parenting advice from him was a last ditch effort. As much as he respected the guy, they didn't always get along.

"I just think you two would get along." He tried to busy his hands, bringing up maps and suspected routes the archers used on their patrols. "Green Arrow takes interest in Queen Industries' establishments and in the slums of Star City. He particularly likes to defend the 'little guy' as he says, so small businesses, homeless, those scraping by. These are likely areas you can meet him at."

Green Lantern wasn't quite convinced by the man's reasoning but knew better than to test him, right then. "Uh huh… next question! Just why do you want me to talk to him? I mean, besides making friends and all that."

"To see if he's willing to join the Justice League. Now I suggest start—"

"Whoa there! Hold the phone!" Hal threw up his hands, taken back a step. "You want him to what?"

The CEO took in a deep breath before looking at him again to explain. "To join the League. I think he'd make a nice addition to the team."

"We don't need a wannabe Robin Hood!" He waved a hand over the images, slightly infuriated. "This guy would be a liability! We'd always be saving his butt!"

"He can take care of himself." The man smirked at an idea. "Personally, I'd like to see what'd happen if you said that to his face."

"A lot of nothing that's what." He folded his arms sourly. "Seriously, I don't see the point of talking to him. That chick maybe, but not him. All he does is shoot arrows."

"He also has a mouth. Main reason I want him in," Bruce turned fully to his guest, "is so you lot don't become over confident."

Hal raised an eyebrow at him. "Come again?"

"Confidence is only good if it doesn't become arrogance. Then you lose your focus and forget the little people you should be protecting." He waved a hand over to the screens. "Having him on the team will level you out, be a living reminder of what's important."

"Because he doesn't have powers."

"I don't have powers," He reminded him with a growl. "And I can still take you down. I know exactly how to take the whole League down if I have to." The pilot smothered a laugh, only making the man even more irked at him. "I'm certain Arrow can too. Meet him and find out for yourself."

"Oh yeah, like one of you could possibly take me down." The space cop really couldn't believe it. No powers, hadn't been out in the field in years, the only real activity the man had was chasing kids and chasing women. He didn't know which was harder.

Probably the punch Bruce landed in his gut just a second later. The resulting fight resounded in the cave for quite some time.

* * *

The boys snickered at the two of them being patched up by Alfred half an hour later. Cassandra was the one holding onto Hal's ring until further notice, it being covered in yellow goop until just then. Bruce had taken it off Hal's hand at the beginning of the fight then threw it into some yellow gack to stop it from being used. Their fist fight ended in the home team's victory, even with the visitor fighting dirty.

"Seriously, where did you learn to fight like that?" He was ex-Military and never seen half those moves until then.

"Please be still Mr. Jordon. Your ribs need to keep still." Alfred really didn't like caring for two grown men who acted like children in the schoolyard. And yet here he was still trying to mend grown children's bones.

"All around the world," Bruce answered. His injuries were far from severe, and much less than what he gave Jordon. That man had fought dirty, but hot good enough to beat this one senseless. "Wildcat from the Justice Society was one of my teachers. That's how I know Black Canary."

"And you think this Green Arrow guy is going to be as tough as you?" He raised an eyebrow, the fight honestly lost in him. He forgot exactly how hard it was to go head to head with Batman. Their first fight over six years ago was one of the worst memories he had. This guy really was one of the best. "Because of her?"

"Her connections give him the possibility," the billionaire admitted. "But I still think he can hold his own even without her. You should meet him and find out for yourself."

"Huh…" Now he was considering it. Seeing as Bruce gave him more than his money's worth in the fight (Hal was not admitting defeat, ever) and he somewhat vouched for this guy, maybe he was worth looking into. He looked over to Alfred and grinned. "So Doc! Am I fit for flying?"

The butler's cold, shrewd glare told him he was not amused. "Reasonably. But I would still recommend twenty-four hours rest before any strenuous activity."

"My ring should keep everything in place. And I'm not planning on fighting the guy."

"Were you planning on fighting me?" The comment started a new round of giggle with their audience. Their father smirked knowingly while the pilot rolled his eyes.

"Okay okay. I'll make a point not to tick him off." Hal motioned for Cassandra to give him back his ring. She gave her father a hesitant look first, receiving a nod before handing it over.

"Uh huh…" He looked over the man he managed to beat up (he definitely won that fight): two cracked ribs, twisted shoulder, bruises randomly placed throughout his body, and a large scratch down one of his arms. Bruce got off easy with just easily concealed bruises and a minor black eye. Hal really needed to brush up on his combat training over using his power ring. And knowing Oliver… "I'll be sure to prepare a casket."

"Hardy har har." The space cop rolled his eyes again as he suited back up and started floating. "Just don't make my headstone any time soon. Catch ya later kiddos."

It didn't take long for him to fly out of the cave, especially since the boys were laughing again. They really didn't seem to have any confidence that he wouldn't have a fight with Green Arrow. Bruce silenced them all with a shrewd glare. "Did you finish your homework?"

"Er…" "I did." "Almost done…" The younger boys darted off with their sister upstairs to finish their school work while Dick stayed behind.

He had a question for the man. "Hey Bruce?"

"Hm?"

"If Green Arrow joins the League, does that mean Speedy does too?" He twisted his lips, biting them slightly nervously as he brought up the subject.

"Um…" Bruce rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. Alfred decided to abandon the two of them in favor of keeping the others in line. "Maybe? Slightly? I'm not entirely sure. How about 'first in line to join when he's an adult'? It'll be giving him more mentors and opportunities at the least."

"So when… If they join the League," he shifted from one foot to the other, "then they'll be able to come over here and stuff, right?"

The man looked at him oddly. "Dick, what are you getting at?"

"It's just…" the teenager gave a sheepish grin as he tried to explain. "I was wondering if you'll tell them the truth about being Batman and then let them come by every so often. It'd be kinda cool to have someone I could talk to freely about all this. I mean… he's the first sidekick. It'd be really cool to be friends with him."

His father looked over the boy for a minute, silent and thinking. Dick had plenty of friends at school, but none of them he could share secrets with. Not secrets like 'my uncle's Superman!' or 'you should have seen Aquaman's face when we got him with paint filled water balloons' or 'my dad beat up Green Lantern yesterday'. He wanted someone he could talk to freely, about everything. Plus Speedy, Roy Harper, was what the circus boy wanted to be when he first discovered Bruce's secret: a child hero. There had to be so much he wanted to talk to him about.

But despite wanting to make his son happy, he had to think of his safety first. "We'll see."

"But—"

"First Queen has to accept the offer," he explained, not wanting to upset him. "Then… I want to see if he'll keep a lid on other people's identities. He and I should get reacquainted on a different level first, and when I feel he's ready, I'll bring him over personally. After that point," Bruce gave him an encouraging smile, "we'll talk about bringing Roy over."

He could tell Dick was quite a bit more excited about it than he let on, but he pouted dramatically anyway. "That's going to take forever!"

"Well, you better hope Hal convinces him to try out the League tonight then." His phone went off, the song (courtesy of his children and the co-conspiring leaguers) told him exactly who it was. He nearly rolled his eyes as he took up the device to answer. "Hold on a moment. Barry? What is it?"

"Uh… B?" The speedster seemed really unsure for some reason. Bruce would have cared a bit more if Dick hadn't stuck out his tongue at him in a teasing fashion before taking off upstairs. "You got a minute?"

The man sighed. "I do now. What is it?"

"Uhm… Actually, I wanted to talk to you about my nephew, Wally."

* * *

A/N: XD now we have the slight origin of both Speedy and Kid Flash (that's what the call was about, how Wally got his powers and what on earth was Barry going to do next) and how Bruce plans on slowly letting the next generation in. Of course since Dick didn't get to break the superhero mold, it's Roy's job. Let's just hope it takes.

So yeah, this is how Ollie gets into the League. I read in a few places that Hal and Ollie are friends, and in my head cannon, Oliver Queen, Bruce Wayne, Lex Luthor and Ted Kord all went to the same boarding school for a very brief time(along with other DC rich men who are near their ages). The two rich men know each other, but don't always get along. Bruce wants him in because Ollie is a person who will say what he means and really is more normal than the rest. Isn't that why they almost strong armed him into the League in the TV show? =S Anyway, they want Dinah more, adn the kids want to meet Roy. Nuff said there.

I liked Hal and Bruce going at it here. Hal kinda deserved to get eaten up after saying those without powers shouldn't be in the League. After two years of the League being active, it's time for some new blood.

Well, now I've got to get Roy in. Then I think I've got most the build up done. Maybe. who knows. =P


	41. Just a Party Right?

Been working on this one for a few days. Kinda buildup/background. Timing for it was harder than I'd like all things considered. Hmmm... My have to edit earlier stories to make it work out better. Who knows. Enjoy!

Dick-16 Jason-12 Cass-11 Tim-8 Damian-2

* * *

**Just a Party Right?**

Roy was bored. Not that unusual because it was a high end party made for snoody adults with too much money and not enough sense to really have a good time at these things. He had to be one of a dozen of teenagers and maybe thirty who were in school. There may have been two or three who were younger, so this must really be boring for them. He could swear at least one of them was asleep and another was getting there.

And there he was near the snack table, watching annoyed as Ollie blustered away at some contact or another, drunk. Seeing his guardian drunk and laughing at some cheap joke another dumb drunk executive told. There were a lot of drunk adults there, most of them rich. Maybe the only way to actually enjoy these kinds of parties, drunk.

Roy looked over to the table where the drinks were waiting for people, wondering how wine tasted. He knew Oliver wasn't paying enough attention to care. Dinah might be, it was hard to tell what she was and wasn't paying attention when she was working the crowd. Sure she was his guardian's date, but she had her own ways to handle these things. Bet if he was careful though he could get away with it.

Slowly he inched towards the table. One drink wouldn't be so bad.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

The redhead jerked around at the voice, his hand snapping back in an instant. Just two feet away from him was a grinning teenager about his age with dark hair and shining blue eyes. The impish knowing look on his face was slightly unnerving. "There's at least two people here I know would tan your hide if they caught you. Plus you'd be setting a bad example for the others."

"I wasn't…" Roy shook his head to clear it. "Exactly what are you accusing me of?"

"Hmmmm…. I wonder…" The guy flashed him a grin. "I don't think we've officially met. Richard Grayson." He offered his hand to the older teen. "But most people call me Dick."

"Seriously?" He raised an eyebrow at the guy. That was a nickname asking for trouble, and considering this kid seemed more comfortable than he was in that three piece suit, it was very tempting to play off of it.

"It's an old nickname my dad gave me." Dick kept up his grin, probably used to the idea. The kid seemed excited for some reason. "You're Roy Harper right? From Star."

"Uh… yeah." Blinking in surprise that he was known by this guy, and realizing he left him with his hand hanging in the air, awkwardly gave him a handshake. "How did you…"

"Bruce mentioned you'd be here." There was a slightly wild look in his eye, as if he were meeting a celebrity.

Which kinda freaked him out. "Bruce?"

"Bruce Wayne, Gotham City's 'Crowned Prince'." Now that was a name even he knew. Roy heard Ollie talk about 'Wayne' from time to time, not always in the most positive light. But the guy was famous, nearly worldwide. Roy was hardly known even in Star City! Well, he was known fairly well as Speedy, but no one there knew that.

Unless this kid knew. He eyed the teen a moment longer as their hands parted. Dick was starting to have a debate with himself. "Don't you think he's too old to be a 'crowned prince' thought? I mean, he's got to old enough to be a king or a duke or something. They also call him a white knight, but then the tabloids get a look at one of his old girlfriends, or supposed girlfriends, and just call him a playboy. You'd think the paparazzi would have had enough of slamming people's private lives by now though right?"

"I guess…" Okay, this guy had a motor mouth. Almost as bad as Kid Flash. He was lucky to understand even half of what that guy said most days.

"I mean, you've been on the receiving end too right? Like when Oliver Queen first brought you home. Must have been a huge deal, with cameras and interviews and the phones going haywire."

"Not really." Roy leaned against the nearby table, shrugging to himself. This kid really was odd. "S'not like he adopted me or anything. He kinda snuck me in through the back door."

"He didn't adopt you?" Dick looked genuinely surprised. "I thought with the stories I've heard you two were—"

"I'm too old for that." He shrugged, burying the pain inside him of losing two father figures already and his third not really taking it seriously. "There's just too small an age gap for him to be my dad anyway. I'm his ward, that's all. He's just keeping me out of the system and looking good for the press whenever they look his way."

A touch of saddened understanding appeared on his face. "Ward huh?" He leaned against the same table, contemplative. "I always did hate that word. Really means nothing after a certain age."

"It's not that bad." '_Crap!_' he thought quickly, trying to save his mentor's image now. '_Can't get this kid all depressed because Ollie and I have issues._' "I mean, he's still there for me and—"

"There has to be a way to make it an official adoption," the boy continued to murmur. "I mean, being Bruce's ward was okay at first, but the kids at school started calling me things like 'charity case' or his little pet. When you're officially adopted, then they have to acknowledge that you have a tight bond of some sort."

"Whoa wait there!" Roy jerked up right, looking straight at the kid in bafflement. "What exactly are you saying here?"

"Just that your guardian needs to hurry up and adopt you so you can stay together easier." Dick blinked at him innocently, as if it were the most normal thing in the world (which it wasn't).

"No I mean about being Bruce Wayne's ward?" This is what really took him for a spin. Was this kid… like him? "I thought you were just friends with him or something."

"Well…" The guy blushed a bit, looking away for a moment. "That too. I'm from the circus to tell the truth, and when my parents died my social worker royally screwed up my paperwork. The fastest way Bruce could get me out of that juvie center I was—"

"Juvie?!" He looked up and down the guy. Circus? Dead parents? Juvie? Seriously?!

Dick gave an abashed shrug. "Only for a week or two. Bruce knew what it was like to lose your parents like I had and took me in. The 'ward' title was the easiest to get, and back then he was really not sure if he wanted to be a dad yet. But after a year together we talked it over and got the paperwork done. You should have seen his face when he was trying to bring it up. So nervous and scared, and I was just nine! He's somewhere between big brother and father to me.

"So what about you and Oliver Queen? What's your story? How did you two meet?" All his attention suddenly fell on him. It almost felt like being under a microscope. He really didn't like telling it to tell the truth, because it really wasn't impressive.

Then again, this kid said he came from the circus.

Roy tried to give a not caring shrug. "I was in an archery contest and the two of us started talking. We became friends and when Brave Bow died…" He took a breath, missing his old mentor and friend more than he let on. "Ollie came over and asked if I wanted to stay with him over being passed around the tribe or going to the local orphanage. I said yes and moved in the next day."

"Tribe?" Dick cocked his head to the side.

"Navajo." Looked like the guy didn't have all the answers after all. "I lived on a reservation a good portion of my life."

"But…" He really looked confused now. "You don't look…"

"My dad was a ranger who worked that area." Why was he telling this kid this? Maybe how he introduced himself and was far more causal yet respectful than others did it for him. Either way, the guy was pretty easy to talk to. "He died saving Brave Bow and a few others. He took me in to repay him."

"Ah." Dick smiled, remembering something. "Makes sense. Grew up there and probably everything from them. That'd be so cool. Wonder what it'd be like if they could have kept me with them."

"Circus?" Time to turn the tables.

"Yeah…"

"Which one?" Let the kid prove he was telling the truth about his origins. Roy wasn't quite convinced yet.

"Haly's. Ever seen 'em?" The strange smiley teen perked up greatly at the mention of his old abode.

"Can't say that I have." Haly's Circus? Was that some kind of two-bit road show? He'd have to look it up later to verify the guy's story.

"Ah man! That sucks." He pouted dramatically. "It's one of the best. Way better than the Ringling Brothers or Barnum and Bailey. And when we were in the center ring, the crowd went wild."

"We?"

"Me and my parents."

"_You_ performed in the circus?" Roy looked up and down the kid, not quite seeing it. But the guy was pretty lean and athletic looking. Definitely not one of those lazy rich kids he met at other parties, but with that suit on it was hard to tell just how skilled he was.

Dick opened his hands to him, showing him calluses, well-worn ones. "Trapeze. The Amazing Flying Graysons. I still practice and even teach it to others. My dad took me up on a wire when I was two months old. Taught me nearly every move I know before he died. Keep it up so I don't forget him.

"You got anything like that? Some thing you and your dad did?" The tables turned back on the redhead. He was not expecting that.

"Uh… not really. I was a bit too young when it happened." He looked away, vague memories of his father coming to his mind. It was really hard to remember him to tell the truth.

"What about Brave Bow?" Some thought struck the kid before he could answer. "Wait, I know. Archery! With a name like that and being a Native American, he must have taught you that."

"Uuuhh…"

"Must be pretty good if you went to a competition. Did you win?"

"I… ah…" This kid was getting way too close for comfort. Next thing he knew he'd be accused of being a vigilante. "No… I just…"

"Rule 3 Dickybird!"

Roy nearly leapt out of his skin as another weird kid appeared seemingly out of nowhere on the other side of the table. Black hair with a stark white lock hanging just in his impulsive green eyes looked at his new acquaintance. Course he could swear the new kid was grinning at him too. Shorter than the other guy, clearly younger and broader built, he really wondered how they knew each other.

And Dickybird?

Said 'bird' rolled his eyes, not looking back. "Whatever Jaybird. One of us was gonna get close to that tonight. Oh!" He straightened off the table and waved a hand over to the new guy. "Roy Harper, my brother, Jason T—"

"Wayne. Jason Wayne." He gave his brother a look before offering his hand across the table to the young archer.

Dick raised an eyebrow at him as Roy took his hand. "I was going to add that. Why are you dropping—"

"I don't exactly want to think of my birth parents right now thank you." There was a little bite in his voice, and something else the new acquaintance couldn't recognize. Maybe a bad history about said parents? Wait…

"Hold on." Roy raised his hand to silence both of them for a moment. Things were a bit confusing there. "You're brothers."

"Yep." "Legally."

"Both adopted?" He pointed between them, only seeing mannerisms as a commonality between them. Seriously they held themselves the same way and even had the same expression when they confirmed what he said.

"That's typically what 'legally' means when 'brothers' are involved," Jason stated flatly, smirking slightly.

"Besides, we hardly look alike," Dick added, bemused. "And we sure don't look like Bruce."

"That's for sure. How old would he have to be to have us anyway?" The first shrugged, both having made their points.

"Are you both from the circus?" Roy had to know how they both managed to give out a normal guy feel and were somehow in this life now. Imagine, three orphans all stuck at the same boring stiffs' party.

"Nah, I'm from Crime Alley. Dickybird is the only circus freak in the house."

His brother both glared and rolled his eyes. "Do you really want to go into that now?"

"What? I'm bored!" Jason thumbed over his shoulder, pointing to where a younger black haired boy was playing with his father's phone, and still getting a bored look in his eye. "Timmy's almost to the point of hacking the security system and seeing what they'll do when everything goes off."

"Can he actually do that?" Dick said exactly what Roy was thinking. Hearing these guys talk was just weird.

The kid shrugged. "He can set them off no problem. Whether he'll get caught is the real question."

The older brother groaned slightly, shaking his head. "We better find him something to do. I don't want to explain to Bruce why the cops turned up here."

"Wait," Roy tried again, not understanding what's going on between all of these boys. "How many of you are there?"

"Of me?" Jason mocked lightly, blinking in surprise. "Just the one."

"There's five kids at Wayne Manor if that's what you're asking." Dick looked over to where a large man was talking to… was that Dinah? Well they were talking, two of the few sober people there, and the man had a toddler asleep on his shoulder. "And it looks like Dami's out cold. Err… You want to pester Bruce into getting back to the hotel while I keep Tim out of trouble?"

The boy shrugged, grinning slightly. "Sounds like more fun than causing havoc. Where do you think Cass—"

There was a sudden shrill scream from one of the debutants, then another and another. An Asian girl not much younger than Jason casually slipped away from the general direction of the screams, a hint of humor in her eyes. The brothers smothered snickers. "Never mind."

* * *

Roy found himself a hidey-hole near the exit of the room about ten minutes later, Dinah's iPhone in hand so he wouldn't be bored anymore. Having told her how bored he was, and about the weirdest conversations he was having with kids his own age there. Well, younger than him. He was sure Dick wasn't his age, not yet. And all those other 'Wayne Kids' (he wasn't sure what they really were frankly) were getting weirder and weirder. He was beginning to feel almost in place, had they also been vigilantes. And that disturbed him. Couldn't risk getting too close to civilians who may have good guesses.

Working on beating Ollie's scores on her phone on Angry Birds, and waiting for Dinah to fetch him so they could leave, he couldn't help but overhear others talking as they passed by.

"Cassandra," a deep voice started, exasperated, "next time, don't ruin their dresses. The screaming was unbearable. You could have woken Damian up."

"They earned it," came a girl's short reply.

"Well it beats what Tim was going to do." Roy jerked his head up at Jason's voice. He was holding back a laugh. "He was gonna set off the security grid."

"Was not," was a young boy's retort.

"Then what were you planning Timbo?" Dick and the rest of their voices were getting closer. He peeked out of his hole to see them. Dick had Tim (he guessed) on his back while their 'father' carried what must be Damian against his shoulder, just behind him. Jason and Cassandra (that Asian girl) were leading the way out of there. The younger ones seemed likely to fall asleep any minute and the youngest was long past gone. Well, it was past nine. Most little kids were in bed by then.

"I was going to change all their security passwords," the kid stated smartly before resting again against his brother's back. "Then place an anomnis… anomommis…amnom…"

"Anonyms?" the teenager guessed to be helpful.

"Right, call. Then see them try and figure out what happened."

Bruce Wayne gave him a strange look. "You can do that?"

"That's what I asked!" Jason butted in.

Tim shrugged as he yawned. "I can try."

Their father shook his head, unable to think of what to say. "I really shouldn't be encouraging that. Maybe we need to make a few new rules." The kids' collective groan was enough for Roy to sneak back into his hiding place. "What? Rules are good for you. Without rules or laws, we'd only have chaos and no one could do anything without fear of retribution."

"We know Dad. We know!" Jason seemed the most exasperated of them all. "But we've gotten official rules already and about a hundred unofficial ones. And we still keep breaking them."

"They're there to break habits and add protection in certain situations."

"Like rule 3 Dick was close to breaking earlier?"

"What?" There was a slight edge to the man's voice. Roy was so glad he wasn't watching them now, but their voices were practically next to him now. They'd be gone soon.

"I was just talking to him! Getting to know him as a person!" Dick insisted, somewhat desperate.

"Who?" The edge was still there.

"Roy Harper."

At the mention of his name, the guy's heart stopped. He was a subject to argue over? With them? What was 'rule 3'?

"I see…" The edge was leaving his voice, but Mr. Wayne still didn't sound pleased. "I thought I told you—"

"Your way's too slow," the oldest insisted. "Bruce, we've waited… Well I've waited for years to just talk to him. It's not like I went into too much detail you know. Just said hi, gave my name, and a little history. You know, how I got here. He told me basically the same thing on his end. I was hoping to talk to him about life with Mr. Queen as his ward and maybe getting the guy to adopt him officially and all that, or maybe talking to him about school and pranks and stuff, but _somebody_," he stressed the word sarcastically, probably looking at Jason, "interrupted us. I bet he thinks we're a bunch of crackpot weirdos now and I'm the worst of them."

Roy blinked. The guy had waited how long just to talk to him? Why? He thought about it for a moment then started to figure it out. Dick said he was Wayne's ward before he was adopted. He came from the circus, nearly the lowest of the low socially, kinda like him. It must have taken some time before his adoptive father and he had gotten along this well, and even then the age difference made their relationship unique. It was a lot like his situation with Ollie. Dick wanted to talk to someone he could relate to, probably ever since his guardian took him in and made it public. He wanted a friend.

That explained a lot. No wonder the kid was nervous and rambling. At least he was friendly and somewhat down to earth. Talk about an awkward introduction. The guy was weird, but not the bad kind. He kinda reminded him of Kid Flash. Bet those two could be friends easy. Maybe even them.

And the man seemed to agree. "Dick, I don't think that's the case. Did you ask for his number or email so you could message each other?"

"Didn't get a chance." He heard some shifting around as they passed him. "And it'll be creepy if I start messaging him without asking for that. Really don't want to lose out on this Bruce. Bet I made the worst first impression ever."

"Hmph! Have I told you exactly how I first met Clark? Or even Oliver? Not the best situations, believe me."

"There's always facebook," Jason offered. "I think I'll friend him too. I mean, he seems pretty cool. Bet we could play zombieland there together!"

"Who knows."

Their voices disappeared by that point and Roy couldn't hear the rest of their conversation. Stepping out of his shelter, he looked towards the exit, wondering what was really going through their heads. FB friends huh? "Well, they don't seem too crazy, for rich kids."

"What are you mumbling about?" He turned around to see Dinah slightly supporting a drunk Ollie next to her. It was high time for them to leave and for him to sleep it off. No patrol that night, but it wasn't Star City anyway. A night off.

Roy shrugged. "Oh, nothing."

* * *

A/N: can anyone remember rule 3? Dick was getting pretty close to breaking it, and was definitely hinting at it, a lot. So now Dick's met Roy, and so has Jason. They even got a brief history of both of them and their relationships. I just thought with all the rambling and stuff Dick did in his intro that he may have sounded a bit crazy, just a bit. It's just an introduction with hopes of them staying in contact in the future, that's all.

Can Tim at 8 hack into some place's security and rearrange their passwords? maybe. DOn't think so but maybe. Trip them, yeah. What did Cass do? No idea. and dami gets to sleep. Yeah, I made Ollie drunk and Dinah sober, but that's because I have no idea how to make him cool in a social setting. I can see him fighting and mouthing off to different leaguers, but there's a lot I don't know about him. really looking forward to Arrow tomorrow. X3

Well back to work, or bed. Whichever comes first. =P


	42. Frustrating

Okay, I've read a few reviews saying I've made Dick not that concerned about Jason (or too cold and logical) during the DITF arc and less emotional than he is, so I wanted to clarify what he was doing during all of this. Not exactly part of that arc so it doesn't have the title add on, but I'm putting it in the timeline in between two parts. You don't have to read this to get the story, just background. and sheesh people... just because I don't have him hugging everyone every five minutes doesn't mean he's not emotional; he's freakin' 15, a guy, and has to be more mature for his many younger siblings so they don't look up to a bad example. half the tough guy act is exactly that, an act. He's quite the performer. Enough ranting. Read.

Dick-15 Jason-12

* * *

**Frustrating**

He watched silently as Bruce comforted the panicking lad, not sure what to do. He really had no idea what to do, and it scared him. Jason was somewhere between screaming and gasping for breath as he squirmed in his father's arms. Slowly he was calming down, but not fast enough for his audience.

And all Dick did was try to give him a hug.

Stepping back and away, he tried to not make any noise as the large man cradled his traumatized son. The… event… was only a month ago. Maybe a little less than? Jason was finally allowed to come home to finish his physical healing and help him on his way to a full recovery a week ago, and they were so glad to see him. But he wasn't really seeing them. The beaten pre-teen's face was so still, so vacant of life, it was hard to believe he was the same guy who'd help them prank the world in the most interesting ways.

Bruce and Alfred said there would have to be some difficulties, but they never really explained what. Leslie had reminded him of when he was beaten by Two-Face and how for a bit he was unresponsive to things, a very short bit. She said shocked states vary from person to person and they all displayed it in different ways. Some people responded differently to one person over another. That's what she said at the hospital when they brought him home. She said to take it easy on him and give him time.

Now he started to understand what she was talking about. Never had Jason reacted like that to him, no matter what he did. Hit him, yeah. Yell, scream and curse, sure. But to shrink back and go into a full blown panic attack… the sight of it scared him. All he tried to do was give him a hug, to hold onto him and assure him he wasn't alone. And he as 100% rejected, as if he were the one attacking him with a crowbar.

"Master Richard." Alfred's soothing voice jerked him out of his gaze. A kind understanding look was in his eyes. He inclined his head over to the others coming into the room curiously. They heard the scream. "If you would assist me."

"Right…" Shaking himself out of his own shock and horror, Dick whipped a smile on his face and started cutting off the younger three from seeing what had happened. "Come on guys. Let's give them some space."

"But what—" Tim tried to ask, only for him to be cut off.

"A breathing exercise to help him recover, that's all." '_Oh man… Did I just lie to Timmy about this?_' He pushed away his guilt and internal turmoil from earlier in favor of making sure the others weren't scarred from this whole problem further than they were already. It was hard on everybody, especially since there was little or nothing they could do to help. "Hey, how about you two pick out a movie? They're gonna be busy for a while."

"I guess…" The eight year old gave him a concerned yet confused look as he accepted it. Cass though, she gave him a doubtful look. She knew something was up, something he didn't want to talk about, but she was going to let it slide. For the moment. The slight plea in her older brother's eyes and the firm stare from their butler's as he closed the doors behind him were enough to keep her silent for the moment.

Dick picked Damian up and propped him on his hip as they started towards the movie room. "Great. We'll join you in a few with popcorn. That sound good Dami?"

"Pop… con?" The toddler cocked his head curiously at the word. Strange since they had it before.

"Yeah, you remember popcorn right? It's yellow and fluffy and buttery and salty all at the same time! Yummy!" Damian didn't quite connect it all together, but hearing 'yummy' was enough to make him happy. The babe knew 'yummy' was a good word. It was easier to smile when the little guy was smiling at him too. "Great! Alfred? May we help with the popcorn and drinks?"

"Of course," the butler said with a cordial nod. Quickly the three of them made their way to the kitchen (thankfully not far) to completely set the distraction in motion. As soon as Damian was in his high chair with some fake cookery to keep him busy, Dick's happy façade vaporized to near panic.

"Okay, what just happened in there?!" Frustrated and worried beyond anything, he turned on the old man. "I try to give Jason a hug and he royally flips on me! What the heck! Why did he—"

"Calm down!" Alfred's sharp retort didn't get the teen to calm, just shut up for a moment. "Master Jason's going through a hard time and—"

"That's not how you react to a hard time!" He waved a hand over to the doorway. "Hard times are dealt with coherent words and throwing punches!"

"Not when you're in a state of shock."

"It's been a month! How long is he going to let what happened to him scare him?!"

"As long as he feels is necessary. Post traumatic stress varies from person to person. As I recall, you had a hard time recovering after Two-Face—"

"I was in a coma for two days and in shock for three." He glared lightly at the old man, remembering that time without another word needed. "I never acted like that!"

"Like I said, it varies. And Jason is not you." Alfred gave him a stern glare in response, taking out the popping corn mixture as they talked. "He is not likely to recover the same way you did. We have to be patient."

"Patient?" Dick looked up at him desperately. "It's been a month! I want my brother back! I want everything to go back to the way it was before all this started! Before Joker! Jason's alive! That's more than can be said about others. Why isn't he—"

"That's enough Richard!" The man's snap at him stopped his ranting in an instant. The teen breathed in and out rapidly, distressed among other things. Nothing had been right since that afternoon when they received a call saying Jason was at Gotham General with Superman. Bruce was dark and moody, either at the hospital with Jason or in the cave trying to find a lead on Joker's whereabouts after that thing at the UN. When he was with them, he really wasn't with them. Damian crying at night was about all else the man heard lately. Tim was acting like he was walking on eggshells after he snapped at him after an all-nighter for asking him a repetitive question. Cass was quieter, hardly talked and disappearing from them for the gym where everything was simpler. It felt like everything was falling apart and Dick could hardly keep sight of where everything was supposed to be. He thought when Jason left the hospital things would start to get back to normal, but it wasn't. With that panic attack, it felt worse.

And yet Alfred was looking at him right then as if he had done something wrong. Why was he looking at him like that? He didn't want that. He wanted his family back to normal! Was that so hard to ask? Tears threatened to leave his eyes, stinging them greatly as he visually begged the man to do something.

Slowly the butler's features softened. "Master Richard, please understand. Master Jason and you are two entirely different people. The scenarios are different. He was beaten before his mother, a woman he barely knew, just before she was killed in that explosion. We still don't know everything that happened there, but we have seen the effects. Master Jason just needs more time and understanding. You'll see."

"But…" Dick looked up at him, crestfallen and desperate. "What can I do? I can't just sit by and watch. Nothing's been right since… There's gotta be something I can do to help! I can't stand seeing this happen. They're just… Everyone's falling apart and…"

He ran his hands through his hair, wiping away as many tears from his eyes as possible without acknowledging he was crying. He couldn't take it. The way everything was going, pretending everything was going to be okay for others, being rejected like that, being shoved away by Bruce when the man stormed in at the sound of screams… it was becoming too much for him to handle. He wanted to do something, anything, just to ease the load and take the pain away, but… "I don't know what to do."

Alfred watched him for a good moment in silence before coming up to him. He placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning a bit so their eyes could meet as he gave him a slight smile. "You have a good heart Master Richard. And you've done many good things because of it. But there are some things you cannot do, at least not in this case. Master Jason must come out of this on his own. Right now he needs Master Bruce most, but given time I do believe he will open up to you once again. Just be patient until then. If you are merely there for him, part of him will know and it will be appreciated.

"In the meantime…" He straightened, thinking over the teenager's words. He was right about a few things. "I believe the only action you can take is stepping up with the care of your siblings. Master Bruce has his hands full with Master Jason and given time he will mellow in his intensity. Being a support for him and easing his load is all we can do for now. Keeping a close eye on what he does wouldn't hurt him either. When bothered to this extent, he has a tendency to make poor choices."

"Maybe it's best he's not in the office then," Dick tried to joke, but knew it was true. Wayne Enterprises could suffer horribly if the man wasn't paying attention to details.

"Hm," Alfred agreed. "Mr. Fox is taking on quite a bit in his absence. But even he is human. You may be called upon to handle part of Master Bruce's tasks, beyond that of caretaker and protector. There is much you can do to help in the background, to make the load easier when Master Jason returns to himself. And he will return to us.

"In the meantime," the butler waved the kernels in front of his face, "we have a promise to keep. At least three others who depend upon us are waiting for a proper distraction from all the turmoil here. Including that one who is about to climb out of his chair."

Dick jerked around, just in time to see Damian half way out of his seat and ready to climb to the ground (the kid was a climber!). Quickly he went to his baby brother, catching him before his grip faltered and held him close. The kid giggled a little as he clutched onto him, thinking it was a game. The teen breathed out a relieved sigh that at least this one wasn't being affected by everything going on around him. Didn't even flinch at the shouting on his part. Must be good to be two.

"Dami…" A slight chuckle behind him made him look back to his near grandfather, and finally he saw the same look in his eye as in his own. Alfred must have been feeling the same things he was. Frustrated and worried for everyone around him, and yet unable to do much of anything. He just hid it better. Abashed, Dick gave him a slight smile. "Thanks Alfred."

* * *

All three of the youngest were well occupied and ready to fall asleep in their chairs when Dick had to visit the bathroom. Not really ready to return to watching a modern day rewriting of an old fairy tale, he wandered the halls and found himself in Bruce's study. The clock entrance to the cave was partly open. He could hear some voices on the other side, and not all of them pleasant. Was that Uncle Clark?

Softly he stood next to the opening and listened best he could. Something about 'artificial kryptonite', 'Luthor', 'maze', 'Lois nearly died'? It was hard to distinguish what the alien was saying from this distance. Bruce tried to rationalize something with him, he could tell from the tone of his voice, but couldn't make out any distinct words. They went back and forth for a while, voices rising and falling within seconds of each other, but nothing too bad.

All he could really gather from their shouting match was something bad had happened and Superman felt Bruce had made a bad call that nearly cost his crush's life. Bruce didn't really deny it directly but he didn't apologize either. It was pretty much over when Dick leaned further in and overheard the man of steel shouting at him to get his act together before someone actually dies.

Silence soon followed, telling the teen to get the heck out of there before Bruce found out he was eavesdropping. Thoughts buzzed through his head as he pieced things together. The man was slipping. He wasn't just forgetting the rest of his family right then, he was putting the League in more danger than normal, making bad calls. Maybe this was a onetime thing but somehow he doubted it. Bruce wasn't thinking straight because of Jason's condition, because of what happened to him. He needed to straighten himself out somehow, and soon. But how?

Pained he remembered his conversation with Alfred and realized he really couldn't do anything to get Bruce to sort himself out. He couldn't fix people, no matter how much he wanted to. They had to fix themselves.

'_Maybe Selina could get him to unwind… Why am I even considering her?_' Dick shook his head as he tried to figure out a game plan for the future. Jason needed Bruce and he was willing and able to help him. The rest of them and the League needed him too, but he was slipping and either forgetting them or making bad calls. It was a good thing Lucius Fox was on their side or the company would be in trouble.

And what could he do? Make sure Bruce didn't fall. It was up to him to help the man from the shadows, protect and care for his other siblings, remotely direct the League when he could. And in general, just be there to help support Jason and Bruce when they wanted him. It wouldn't be easy, but it would be worth it.

* * *

A/N: See? Dick wasn't being cold, he just didn't know what to do. and with Jason rejecting him with a panic attack (did mention it in the arc, but that was in reference to tickling) he couldn't be all huggy with him. Sometimes the only way to show you care is to serve. That's how I grew up, not with hugs, but with helping each other out.

So we have Dick deciding to step up and do everything he could to help from the shadows. Occasionally making sure the League's getting good intel and being sent to the right places at the right times is something small to tell the truth. Mostly he makes sure the others don't feel neglected. it probably would have gone easier for him if Selina had made an appearance and slapped some sense into Bruce's head but she ran. Such was life. Am working on a short earlier in their lives where Dick and Jason have a hug-war that should be amusing, but this one took precedence for some reason in my head. =/ who knows. Hope I've cleared a few things up!


	43. Death Defying Huggles

heh, promised I'd get to this one next. Just a fun one before I go back to things more serious. Crack really, with a touch of 'I give up' parenting. Others are in here (pre-dami) but have no lines. Enjoy! Oh, certain events in here are referred to in 'Super Sitter'

Dick-14 Jason-11

* * *

**Death Defying Huggles**

Dick was bored. Very bored. Grounded too, which only added to his boredom. Really, what was so wrong about covering the Batsuit in glitter glue? Bruce hardly ever wore it, and frankly it looked quite nice now that it shined when the light hit it. Bet he wouldn't have gotten into trouble if he used red glitter glue instead of green, but it was so worth it! The look on Bruce's face…

But that little stunt cost him not being able to go to the zoo with the others that weekend. Thankfully he wasn't the only one stuck at home. Alfred of course was there to hold down the fort, but Jason had cherry bombed the toilets at Wayne Tower earlier that week. Course he said he didn't, but the cameras said otherwise. He was grounded too, probably more than Dick was.

And now he was bored. TV and internet were shut down thanks to Bruce's program he put up whenever they were in trouble. Their phones were confiscated, the video games were under lock and key (which Alfred only had and no one crossed him), and the batcave was locked tight so they couldn't fool around in there. Plus their favorite 'aunts and uncles' were told to steer clear of them unless it was a real emergency, so no fooling around with Superman or Flash or Martian Manhunter for the next few days. It really sucked to be grounded in this house. All he could do was work out in the gym (which got boring after a while if no one else was around), helping Alfred clean (did that, also got bored of dusting pictures and figurines), or read! (Something else he didn't feel like doing right then either)

Having just left Alfred to find something else to do until Bruce, Cass, and Timmy returned with their wild adventure stories, Dick decided it was high time he did something guaranteed to take away his boredom. Last he checked, his target was fiddling with something on the couch in the parlor. Hopefully it wasn't sharp.

Quietly he slunk in the back way, making sure he wasn't seen by his target. He spotted the thing his target was working on and grinned. Not sharp. That was going to make things easier. Creeping around the couch, careful not to be seen, his target was unaware of what was to come. Slowly he looked over the back of the seat, eyeing his innocent prey, before launching himself at him. "GOTCHA!"

"HEY!" Jason immediately tried to pull back as Dick tackle glomped him to the ground, narrowly missing the coffee table. The Rubix Cube he was playing with (trying to figure out how a seven year old could solve it so easily for the past few hours) went flying out of his hands as he struggled uselessly against the much older boy. "GET OFF ME DICKHEAD!"

"Nuh uh." Dick grinned impishly as he snuggled his kid brother on the floor tightly. The guy was not getting away that easy. "Your my cute widdle bwudder."

"DON'T CALL ME THAT!" It was bad enough when the guy did his when he first came to the manor, but seriously! Did he have to hug him like that now?! He was fourteen! He should act his age for once in his life!

"Awwwweeee… Baby Jaybird is getting embawwest. Isn't he cuuute?"

"CUT IT OUT!" He wriggled best he could to get out of the guy's arms, but it wasn't working. The acrobat always had a tight grip.

"Does my widdle bwuejay want a kissy?" Dick batted his eyes up at him cutely, not giving him any room to get away from him.

"Do and it'll be the last thing you ever do!" The dangerous tone he took was enough to shy him away from trying.

"Party pooper. You no fun." He pouted for a moment, then decided to nuzzle his brother's cheek instead. "Cute though. And cuddly! So very cud—"

"AM NOT! GET OFF ME!" The boy thrashed against him, fighting to get free of the larger boy. Not working.

"Not a chance!" He grinned impishly, despite all protests.

That was it. Time to play dirty.

"GET-" He drove an elbow into his side.

"THE HELL-" His knee barely missed his groin.

"OFF ME!" Nails drove into the teen's skin, causing as much pain as he could muster into the guy just so he could be free.

"Ow…" The acrobat winced at each blow but wouldn't let go. He hadn't attacked Jason like this in some time. He deserved to suffer the humiliation a little while. So what if he'd have bruises for a few days after. It'd be worth it just to get under Jason's skin for a bit. "Me no think so."

"WHAT ARE YOU ON?!" Seriously! This guy was crazy! Jason did not do hugs. If he wanted one or needed one, he'd ask or silently shift around some people. Most of the time though, he hated it. Especially when this guy gave him strangle worthy ones. They've been through this so many times, their dad had to make rule 10 to get him to stop.

Dick blinked at him innocently. "Is that a trick question?"

Something snapped in the younger boy, and his brother could tell. Somehow he threw his weight around, turning Dick's back to the floor and jabbing a knee into the soft portion of his side. On top and bracing his hands against the floor for leverage, Jason shoved his torso away from the teenager, glaring daggers at the guy. The larger boy suddenly turned into a deer seeing headlights.

"Uh oh."

"You're dead goldie." Almost maniacal rage boiled in his eyes. "You are so dead."

"Only if you can catch me Jaybird." Before Jason could throw the first punch, Dick arched backwards, throwing the kid off long enough to flip back and away from him. The kid was scrambling to get to his feet while the teen ran as fast as he could out of the room and bolted to the grand staircase to escape his fists. A grin started to grow on his face. "And do try to catch me."

"NOW YOU DIE GOLDIE!"

* * *

Bruce had barely made it through the door with a tired yet happy Cassandra and Timmy when Dick practically sprinted towards them. "Bruce! Save me! Save me!"

"What the…"

The teenager flipped over the younger two's heads before dropping just behind the large man. "The evil one is after me."

The man looked over his shoulder to his eldest, raising an eyebrow. The younger two were also looking at him oddly, and no one could blame them. Though Dick had given them all a panicked look, it was more playful than scared. The 'evil one' must have been a joke on his end. "And who—"

"DICK! GET BACK HERE!"

"Ah." Jason's voice was all he needed to hear next and he knew a migraine would be coming. Cass lost interest immediately and returned to just walking back into the house. Timmy lingered, watching curiously as the second came running into view red faced, sweating, and glaring daggers past them to his target.

"See?! The evil one approaches!" Dick even pointed at the one he riled up, both joking and serious as he spoke. "He wants my blood."

"I wonder why." Not really. Bruce knew those two would fight for multiple reasons, and that if Dick was trying to not smile during this chase this much, he was having fun. Couldn't be serious.

Seeing his father and kid brother near his target, Jason took a breath and slowed down, his eyes not leaving the teenager hiding behind them. "Hey Dad. Mind getting out of the way so I can kill him?"

"See?! He's evil!" Dramatic mock superior disgust appeared on his face as the older boy pointed at him. "He cannot be trusted. He must be exorcised!"

"What did he do?" Their father asked, tired and not really interested in playing whatever game Dick thought he started.

"Broke rule 10!"

"Ah." Judging by how upset and out of breath the boy was, Dick must have attacked him with unwanted hugs and cuddles. That never settled right with Jason. And unlike the majority of his family who largely endured in silence or ignored his over display of affection when it wasn't wanted, he never went along with it. And Dick knew it. "He's all yours."

"What?!" The acrobat jerked an honestly surprised look over to the man.

Jason just grinned as he got closer. "You heard him! You're mine!"

"Dick I told you last time I wouldn't be defending you if you pulled another of your stunts like this again." He waved a hand over to Jason. "Consider this the consequences of your actions."

The teen blinked at him for a moment before returning to his game. "Oh NOES! Zeh evil haz taken over zeh great bat! Must not let it win!" Swiftly Dick leapt away from Bruce and picked up Timmy before running away, still in a mock panic. "Must save zeh children from zeh evil onez!"

"GET BACK HERE!" Jason jerked forward to follow only for Bruce to hold him back for a moment. Their eyes met as the man spoke.

"Don't break anything and don't put anyone in the middle of this. I really don't want Timmy getting hurt because the two of you are having fun."

"Who said we were having fun?" His father gave him a knowing look which quickly put him into a slightly bashful state. Jason looked away for a moment before nodding. "Fine. I'll call it quits at dinner. But I'm still getting a good slug in."

"Good." Bruce let him go to do what he wanted, satisfied. It was the best he could hope for. He learned long ago not to get in the middle of one of their bizarre games. It only ended with confusion and a few new bruises on any party caught in the middle, and maybe a few damaged household items. There was a reason rule 8 existed after all. "Go get him."

Encouraged, the boy grinned widely and returned to running around the place after his brother. He looked back only once after a few seconds. "Oh, welcome back! See ya at dinner!"

The man shook his head, smiling slightly in his tired state as he vanished around the corner. No matter how much time passed, he'd never quite understand why these two acted like this, but it was just something he had to accept. This was how they were, and that was that.

* * *

A/N: XD okay, seriously, I have two older sisters who would do exactly this, minus any acrobatics. and I'd be poor timmy here, picked up and used as a human shield to stop the younger older sister from hurting the older older sister. Only other difference I can think of between them and these two is that the older one would be meowing the entire time, and neither would involve my parents. I'm of the opinion that Bruce would just give up trying to break up fights so long as they didn't turn dangerous or hurt anyone else in the process and provided it wasn't in public. My mom gave up trying to figure out my crazy brother's head a long time ago for similar reasons. it's just how they are.

Dick's prank with the glitter glue is kinda based off of an actual sugar-high friend of mine's prank, but she did it to her dad's briefcase and I think it was pink. fun times. Hope you enjoyed their brotherly hugging/wargame/madness. I need to get back to the arc I'm working on... plus other things... *looks away*


	44. Pies and Pumpkins

Someone wanted a halloween one, with pumpkins. There it is! I have another Halloween one that goes along with the next arc, but I want to get more done on that first before posting it. Maybe on the actual holiday? B] Pre-dami again. sorry!

Dick-14 Jason-11 Cass-9 Timmy-7

* * *

**Pies and Pumpkins**

"Surprise!" Superman excitedly flew into the kitchen where half the Wayne children were working on their homework (Alfred was very good at explaining spelling and English assignments), setting a large basket of pumpkins on the ground before them. A huge grin was plastered across his face. "Pa had a good crop of pumpkins this year. Think you can use them?"

"For what?" Timmy cocked his head to the side in confusion as Cass and Alfred blinked at him in curiosity.

The man of steel nearly gaped at them for a moment. Wasn't it obvious? "For Jack-O-Lanterns of course! Haven't you ever made a Jack-O-Lantern before?"

"What's that?" The boy shook his head at the same time as his sister. Alfred caught on, explaining things to them.

"A Jack-O-Lantern is an old Halloween tradition sprung by the belief they would protect a home from wandering spirits and the undead." The old man gave them a kind smile as he elaborated a bit more. "There are several different versions of the tale as to why, but the essential reason for having them is the same: protection and lighting your path."

"Then why haven't I seen one?" he asked, confused still.

"Oh you have," the butler reminded him, "you just don't remember at the moment. And I believe last Halloween you had chickenpox, keeping out of the festivities. And previous years you were too young to handle a knife to help carving. But don't you remember scraping out the insides of pumpkins a couple years ago? You two rather enjoyed throwing seeds at your brothers."

"Oh yeah…" Timmy looked up, starting to remember what had happened previous years while his sister smothered an impish laugh. She was the one who threw the first handful of pumpkin goop at Jason. The younger boy didn't like getting his hands dirty, especially back then.

"So, think you can use them?" Superman grinned excitedly at them. He picked out two of them easily. "There's enough here for everyone to carve their own, and some extras! You could submit them to a contest or decorate your house or—"

"You can do that?!" The youngest asked, wonder in his eyes.

"Sure! We have contests every year back in Smallville!" An idea struck him. "Hey! How about you guys come over for Halloween! There's contests and prizes and games and costumes and haunted houses and mazes and more food than you can eat! It's so much fun you'll never want to leave! And the trick-or-treating is great!"

"Sounds awesome!" Timmy was getting really excited, nearly gaping at him in anticipation.

Cass looked over to Alfred hopefully. "Can we go?"

"I'm afraid plans have already been made for this Halloween Mr. Kent," Alfred regretfully informed them. "Mr. Madsen is throwing a small party and Master Bruce has already accepted his invitation. As a trusted business partner, it is unwise to take it back now."

"Awwww…." The two pouted and whined in tandem of each other. Being told they couldn't go see 'Grandma and Grandpa' Kent, let alone not go trick-or-treating with them, was something they really didn't want to hear.

"What's with the 'awwww's?" Jason, closely followed by Dick, came into the kitchen, proof of their completed homework in hand. They needed to prove they were done before Alfred would let them have any snacks. It was nearly always a race between them on who'd get the treat first.

"We can't go to the Kents because Daddy already said we're going to the Madsen's for Halloween!" Timmy explained quickly, pouting still. Both the older boys made faces, neither apparently liking the news either, but not for the same reasons.

"Dang it… Why didn't you mention it earlier Uncle Clark?!" Jason turned a glare on the kryptonian. "Then we could have picked our costumes!"

"What?"

"Are these for us?" Dick pointed to the pumpkins their visitor had brought in. He was starting to get excited.

"Yeah they are."

"COOL!" Quickly the teen started rifling through them, trying to find the best one. "Dibs on this guy! I think I'll do a ghost this year!"

"Not until everyone's work is done," Alfred enforced, giving them a shrewd look. Both Cass and Timmy looked at each other then back to their papers, trying to get their homework done as quickly as possible so they weren't the ones holding their brothers back. The butler looked away from the pouting boys now picking through pumpkins and thinking over their designs for this year, to the man of steel. "Thank you for bringing over the pumpkins Mr. Kent. I will be sure to inform Master Bruce of your generous donation when he returns home."

"Not a problem!" Superman looked back over to the kids and the pumpkins waiting to be carved. "But I was kinda hoping… could I come by later and help out? It's like decorating the tree at Christmas. A family tradition and more fun than just having it done. Plus I want to see what you carve."

The oldest child snickered while the others grinned at him. The butler raised an eyebrow. "I see no reason why not. Technically you are entitled to see the results of your investment, but I cannot guarantee Master Bruce will see this in the same light as I or the children."

"It'll be fine!" Dick insisted immediately. "I'll turn on the hypersonic switch on my watch when we're working on them, 'kay?"

This made the surrogate uncle grin. "Okay! I think I just heard a volcanic explosion in Chile anyway. See you in a bit!"

And with a wave, the most powerful humanoid on the planet vanished from their kitchen, almost as sudden as when he had entered.

* * *

Covered in soot and sweat, Clark made a quick stop at this apartment for a shower and a change of clothes before returning to Wayne Manor. He didn't think Superman would be needed again for a bit (a volcanic eruption, two wild fires, and a giant robot that might have been made by Toyman) and if he could get away with just wearing his street clothes for a few more hours, it'd be swell. Tights got confining after a while and he sort of missed wearing normal clothes all the time like he did as a kid. Plus unless it was a short visit, Alfred had a strict rule about costumes/capes in the manor.

After all, that man's word was law to everyone he met.

Stopping just short of the side/kitchen entrance of the house, Clark used X-ray vision to see what was going on. He heard the sonic device go off about an hour ago, so he knew they had started carving those pumpkins, but how many had they done? Course he could always get more if they finished what they had. Pa had a really good crop this year, for all his squashes. But it looked like there were two whole pumpkins still untouched, and about half a dozen completed. Bruce was currently working on one of them.

The man's silk sleeves were rolled past his elbows and his hands were carefully moving the small knife in and through the squash. His younger two children were watching him with baited breath as he focused solely on the problem before him. The older two were helping Alfred with the seeds, preparing them for baking so they wouldn't go to waste. The remains of a ruined pumpkin (maybe smashed by accident or for fun) waited on a countertop with a large knife coming out of it, waiting to be dealt with.

Clark smirked to himself. Nothing was being wasted. Ma would be very pleased with them for this. He waited until both parties had taken their hands off their current tasks before coming through the door. "Hey there! I'm back!"

"Uncle Clark!" The boys nearly leapt from their positions and darted over to him, giving him quick hugs wherever they could grab him. Dick even jumped up to his shoulders and started ruffling up his hair while laughing. "So what happened?! Heard there was a robot! Did you take pictures? You're awfully clean for someone who took down a volcano."

"I took a shower," he explained after a minute, grinning. Honestly, the reporter didn't expect a sudden surge of affection from any of them. Dick sure, Timmy maybe, but Jason's hug was unexpected and soon Cass even came up to him and gave him a pat on the back, grinning. '_They must really like those pumpkins._'

"You're going to need another one," Bruce mumbled to himself, concentrating on his work. Clark was about to ask why when he got a good look at the design the man was working on. A cat chasing after a witch on a broom chasing a ghost who was headed to a castle that the cat came from. Quite a complicated piece, and it was nearly done.

"That's really good."

"Just fine-tuning one of Jason's," the man assured him. "He came up with this design. And a couple others."

"Yeah," the former street rat started, grinning. "Dad's is gonna get turned into pie."

"Why?!" Clark looked between Bruce and the pieces of pumpkin on the cutting board. Why was his hard work being used like that when he never even got to see it?

"Because he got frustrated with the design and accidentally dropped it while trying to do a different angle. Went splat face down." The kid grinned at him while his father rolled his eyes, setting the knife aside. Guess the lantern was done, and he didn't want to make it any worse. Jason continued. "He's just been helping us with our designs ever since."

"Some aren't very original," Dick admitted, pointing out the crudely made faces on three of them. One looked like a vampire while another looked like Picasso. That one had to be Timmy's. "While others are a lot cooler." He particularly pointed out a pumpkin with a Superman shield on it. Then he turned it around to show off Wonder Woman's Ws and then a bat in a circle. The teenager grinned proudly. "I call this 'Trinity'."

"I call it a dead giveaway," Bruce muttered as he rolled his shoulders. "If that ever left the house, people would be suspicious."

"We could light it in the cave," he tried to compromise.

"Not a good idea," Alfred butted in. "Not with the bats, their appetites and guano. Very hazardous."

"Still, it'll look awesome in a dark room!" Dick was nearly bouncing around on his heels at the thought of lighting this guy up.

"Not near as cool as Cass' though." Their sister blushed as Jason pointed out her pumpkin. A fancy large bat was on one side, something nearly out of a carving idea book, and a well written 'Darkest Knight' on the other side. "She came up with the design and we helped her put it together."

"Mostly Jason," Timmy admitted. "He's good at carving. Look at mine!" He pointed to the third face lantern, which actually looked normal for a lantern. Considering this might have been the only jaco-o-lantern he made on his own so far, it wasn't so surprising it was basic. Still, Clark was certain Picasso was his.

"And that one's Alfred's!" The boy pointed out the last pumpkin, one with two well carved roses put into the side. Anyone could tell a professional chef had done this job. So when their visitor made a confused face, they all had to know what was bothering him. "Something wrong?"

"I was just wondering who did those two." He pointed to the first two faces curiously.

"That one's mine." Jason pointed at the vampire one, grinning impishly. "Dick's is Mr. Potato head."

"Really?" Clark looked over the pumpkins again, reviewing who made what. In the end he came to an interesting conclusion, and grinned for it. He looked over to the head of the household. All he had done was fine-tune/clean up one of Jason's masterpieces. "You can't carve a pumpkin?"

"Can you run multiple corporations, balance a budget, gather difficult intel, and organize half a dozen super powered beings into a force for good?" There was a notable amount of bite in his voice, bitter and grumpy at him for teasing him. He spent at least the past hour trying to carve and clean up pumpkins with little to no success. It was not a good time to tease him.

"Ahhhh… Probably not."

"Then for once Kent, keep your mouth shut." Bruce picked up the pumpkin he helped finish and placed it next to the others before looking at the remains of his own creation. He kept his eyes firmly on the pieces as he finished dicing them up for the blender Alfred had gotten out to start preparing the squash for the pie making process. "If you want to show them how you make lanterns, be my guest. You have two tries. Good luck."

The reporter ran a hand through his hair in slight disappointment and stopped, surprise coming to his face. Something sticky was in his hair. Slimy even. He just cleaned up! How could this be… Stiffed snickers and chuckles came from the kids around him. They even turned away to try and stop themselves from laughing. Why were they…

Finally it donned on him, making his face turn red in embarrassment. "Dick!"

* * *

A/N: Honestly, did not know how to end this. Didn't know how to continue it either. Clark just discovered that when he was attacked with hugs, their hands hadn't been washed. And Dick got his hair. Bruce did warn him though.

I like the idea of Jason being talented in carving and singing while Dick's a performer whose tastes are either fanboy, joke or just plain silly. Kinda want to give Cass a special talent too, but haven't nailed one yet. Timmy's lantern was basic really, but he's 7. Alfred's was also nice because he's Mr. amazingly talented and perfect butler and Bruce's died because he really wasn't into it. That became a pie. My mom used to turn our pumpkins into pies after halloween and first step after skinning and dicing was turning it into frepe! So much fun.

Oh and Dick's trinity pumpkin, I did it this year. =P Happy Early halloween!


	45. Cinderella

Okay, I wanted to do this because we need more Daddy daughter moments. Inspired by Steven Curtis Chapman's heart breaking song, which seriously makes me cry everytime I hear it or even read the words. Dunno exactly why, but I love this song. Just thought it'd be good. Enjoy!

Cass-8

* * *

**Cinderella**

It was one of those days when a song he heard in passing just wouldn't leave his head. Worst part was, he only picked up the chorus and parts of the verses. It wasn't a perky song, but bittersweet. Something he didn't want to think about either.

But when his daughter came into his study, a little shyly, he couldn't help but to remember it. "Dad?"

"Hm?" Bruce looked up at the sound of her small voice. Cassandra had worked hard to speak and he wasn't about to ignore her now that she did. Her voice wasn't very strong yet, but being with three brothers who had little volume control would soon fix that. She would have to yell in the future to be heard. "Is there something you need?"

The small girl shifted uncomfortably for a minute before answering. Normally she wouldn't be bothering her father for anything, but this time… "Can you help with homework?"

The man blinked for a moment before motioning her over, smiling. He needed a break from reading League reports and he wasn't about to tell his little girl no. "Of course. Come on over and show me what it is."

"Well…" Cass came further into the office but stopped at the wide open space before the desk. Seeing her stop, nervous and not holding any books or papers, made him wonder what was wrong. Eventually she looked back up to him, fidgeting while she explained. "Today in PE, we danced. Tomorrow we dance. I stepped on toes, a lot. Can you help me practice?"

It took her father back a step hearing the question. That song he heard earlier that day, the one that kept playing in his head, only part of it over and over again, returned in full force. Part of him wanted to ask her if she asked her brothers first (Dick was an accomplished dancer and Jason had a great sense for music), but the song in his head wouldn't leave, telling him what to do. A gentle smile appeared on his face as he looked on his daughter for a moment before getting out of his chair and approaching her. Cass blinked a bit in surprise, but couldn't help but to giggle when he bowed deeply to her.

"I'd be honored my lady. What particular kind of dance is it?"

As the usually quiet Asian girl started telling him choppily what they had learned in school, the song played again in his head. When he had pieced together it was a simple waltz and a cha-cha they had learned, Bruce helped her remember all the moves, talking her through each step slowly so she could ask questions and not have to solely rely on reading bodies to guess her part. After twenty minutes or so, she picked it up, almost to the same level as Dick. The girl was a natural. "I think it's time we tried this with music."

Quickly he returned to his computer and deliberately picked an instrumental piece perfect for this dance. He needed to get that song out of his head and Cass was ready for the next step. He turned playfully to his daughter, bowing. "May I have his dance your highness?"

Cass giggled before trying to make a curtsy. "I'd be honored."

Both held onto each other and started to move in synch with the music playing on the speakers. It wasn't a slow piece, nor a fast one. Just right for the two of them. But maybe Bruce should have played it a little louder, because that song he was trying to be rid of hit him again full force as he watched his daughter merrily dance away in his grasp. And this time he remembered all of it.

_She spins and she sways__  
__To whatever song plays__  
__Without a care in the world__  
__And I'm sitting here wearing__  
__The weight of the world on my shoulders__It's been a long day__  
__And there's still work to do__  
__She's pulling at me__  
__Saying "Dad, I need you__There's a ball at the castle__  
__And I've been invited__  
__And I need to practice my dancing__  
__Oh, please, Daddy, please?"__So I will dance with Cinderella__  
__While she is here in my arms__  
__'Cause I know something the prince never knew__  
__Oh, I will dance with Cinderella__  
__I don't want to miss even one song__  
__'Cause all too soon the clock will strike midnight__  
__And she'll be gone...__She says he's a nice guy and I'd be impressed__  
__She wants to know if I approve of the dress__  
__She says, "Dad, the prom is just one week away__  
__And I need to practice my dancing__  
__Oh, please, Daddy, please?"__So I will dance with Cinderella__  
__While she is here in my arms__  
__'Cause I know something the prince never knew__  
__Oh, I will dance with Cinderella__  
__I don't want to miss even one song__  
__'Cause all too soon the clock will strike midnight__  
__And she'll be gone__She will be gone__Well, she came home today with a ring on her hand__  
__Just glowing and telling us all they had planned__  
__She says, "Dad, the wedding's still six months away__  
__But I need to practice my dancing__  
__Oh, please, Daddy, please?"__So I will dance with Cinderella__  
__While she is here in my arms__  
__'Cause I know something the prince never knew__  
__Oh, I will dance with Cinderella__  
__I don't want to miss even one song__  
__'Cause all too soon the clock will strike midnight__  
__And she'll be gone_

In Bruce's mind's eye, he could see his little girl grow up and become a young woman, leaving him excitedly for some man he'd never met before. A strong woman, ready to take on the world and live her own life miles away from him. Prom dress, a wedding dress, her first date… He didn't even want to think about when she'd hit puberty yet. And yet he knew, one day she'd grow up and he wouldn't be the center of her world.

He certainly wasn't ready for the clock to strike midnight quite yet.

As the actual music ended and Cass laughed at her father's clumsiness in his distracted state, he smiled a little wistfully at her. She only had to look up at him once to know he wasn't feeling the same things she was. Sad even. "Dad? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," he admitted, smiling a little for her sake. "Just… thinking.

"Cass…" Bruce knelt down to her eyelevel then wrapped his arms around her, giving her a strong hug. She returned it, in hopes to calm the man she grew to love and respect more than the one who first raised her. So much more. "Do me a favor."

"Hm?"

"Don't grow up too fast. Take your time and stay my little princess for as long as possible, okay?"

Hearing this, Cass turned her head to see her father's face. Wasn't he supposed to be sad? But he wasn't. Not really. More thoughtful than sad. Would her growing up make him sad? The last thing she wanted was to make this man sad and cry. If it meant making him happy, she'd stay as small as she could. Still, she couldn't help but think it was a little silly. "Okay Daddy. Love you."

Then she pecked him on the cheek, giggling a little. He really was being silly. Bruce smiled at the act of affection before returning it on her forehead. "Love you too. And any time you feel like dancing, I'm always ready to help. Okay?"

"Okay," she promised lightly before releasing her grip on him, beaming at him. Dad was just being silly, like all adults were. Barbara's dad became silly because of her from time to time. It must be a dad thing. "Thank you for helping."

"You're very welcome." The man smiled more proudly at his girl, releasing her. "Think you've got it?"

"Think so," Cass answered with a nod.

"Good. Now go get ready for bed. I'll be up to tuck the whole lot of you in soon." She nodded once before darting out excitedly. As she ran away though, her father couldn't help but to see her all grown up and running to a decorated car, wearing a long white dressed and holding the hand of some unknown man. All he could really see besides her dress and her smile was that she was leaving him.

But that smile…

_'Cause all too soon the clock will strike midnight__  
__And she'll be gone_

* * *

A/N: awe! I love this piece too much! couldn't quite convey what I wanted to put here, but did okay I think. Cass is after all his only daughter here and therefore the princess of his castle. if Bruce has a hard time letting go of Dick, it'll be even harder for him to let his little girl go.

Okay... need to get back to work.


	46. Heroic Halloween

Well, this is something I've been holding out on putting up for quite some time. Still 'Sacrifice' buildup, but it's the most important piece. X3 Still working on 'Sacrifice' and an extended version that won't be like a bunch of one-shots that I'll be posting in TT later, so keep an ear out. Anywho, back to the story.

Dick-16 Jason-13 Cass-11 Tim-9 Damian-3

* * *

**Heroic Halloween**

"Jason, I really don't think that's an appropriate costume." Bruce eyed the teen's accessories with distaste. It specifically violated rule 2, even if they were squirt guns painted black.

Jason just grinned impishly at his dad. Brown leather jacket, grey tank, black gloves, boots, and pants, plus the gun holsters he had on either side of his hips, he was one bad dude. And he had a hockey mask painted red to go over his face. He thought it was perfect. "It's perfectly appropriate! I'm an anti-hero! A bounty hunter!"

"They aren't heroes," his father reminded him, pinching his brow. He knew this night was a big mistake. "They're just outlaws who don't go after the good guys."

"Exactly!" The teen grinned from ear to ear. "The bad guys will never expect it when someone like them takes them in. And with a mask, they wouldn't know who they are! Same concept as every other hero, with a twist."

"And the guns?" That was the part he really objected to. The rest of the costume was fine. It was what this 'hero' would use that bugged him.

"How far away can a person get from Batman if they use guns?"

His dad cringed, looking back to his own costume. He didn't want to think real hard, and he didn't want to borrow Kent's uniform. So he was wearing an updated model of his old Batman uniform, complete with a well stocked utility belt. Never hurt to be prepared. So long as he smiled and used his normal voice, no one would ever put two and two together.

Well, Selina might, but he was trying to ease into this relationship slowly. He didn't want to rush this one, especially considering her past. Though she had recently seemed to go on the straight and narrow, he wasn't holding his breath. The only 100% positive thing he knew about the woman was she wasn't a killer and he could trust her with his children. He wasn't certain if she'd sell out his old identity he still moonlighted as, so he hadn't told her the truth yet.

But maybe she'd figure it out tonight. Curse Halloween and people's theme parties. He should have just let the kids go trick-or-treating.

"Point."

"Besides," Jason grinned as he looked over to the others coming down the stairs in their costumes, "I'm nothing compared to Dick."

That impish glint in his eye told Bruce enough. Something he'd disapprove more was part of that teen's costume. But he turned and watched the others come downstairs, smirking slightly anyway. He'd know what was going on soon enough. Cassandra put her costume together herself, a patchwork female version of his own costume. All black cloth except for the outline of a gold bat on her chest and her yellow belt. She put some nylon on the inside of the eyes to hide them instead of using white lenses or having openings for her mask. Tim was dressed like Catwoman actually, all black mock-leather, even a kitty cap with yellow goggles on top. Damian was making his own way down the stairs, grinning from ear to ear, in a normal kitten costume, also black. It was going to be easy for others to tell where these three came from.

"Well well well!" Selina followed Alfred in, newly arrived and wearing her usual Catwoman gear, grinning. Beautiful and seductive as always, though she did tone it down around the kids. "I think I'm flattered. We've got two kittens and two bats. And what are you? A serial killer?"

"Got the last of the fruit loops this morning," Jason joked, making his father roll his eyes. "Moving on to frosted flakes tomorrow."

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! PRESENTING…" Dick's voice rang out above them all. Their eyes flew to the top of the staircase, knowing well the acrobat's need to perform. There was a flash of yellow before their eyes caught sight of the circus boy, leaping over the banister and onto the chandelier.

"DICK!" Bruce shouted in immediate alarm. They had a very strict rule about this.

But the teen didn't hear. He was too busy swinging forward and pack before letting go into a quadruple summersault and landing on the couch to spring off it, flipping over the back and landing perfectly on his feet. He turned about on a dime, grinning from ear to ear. "ROBIN! THE BOY WONDER!"

"_What are you wearing_?!" Bruce gaped at the teen's costume, unable to see why the others giggling around him found it so funny. A green leotard with sleeves under bright red vest with an R on the left hand side. Green pixie boots and gloves, and a yellow cape and belt completed the getup. The black domino mask tied around his face, plus the messy hair, made him look like a cheep sixties tv sidekick! He wasn't wearing anything on his legs!

"My costume!" Robin grinned. "I tried nylons but I kept ruining them. So I just shaved my legs."

"Ooo… Gutsy." Selina grinned broadly, admiring what she was seeing while the other kids laughed. This boy was turning into quite a looker. "Gotta admire a kid who'd shave his legs for a party."

"Change." The man of the house ordered, all humor leaving his face. This was not a laughing matter. How could he even consider leaving the house like this?!

Dick gave him an are-you-kidding look. "Why?" He looked up and down himself for a minute. "It's not like you haven't seen this before. It's just like my costume back in my circus days. Just much bigger."

"I'm pretty sure if you stayed in the circus, you'd be wearing pants." Bruce continued glaring at the oldest child there.

"It's not that big a deal," he retorted, rolling his eyes.

"You've just broken both rules 6 and 9 right now." Though Bruce didn't usually enforce those rules, this time he was. They were more or Alfred's benefit than his. Dick gave him an incredulous look.

"Oh yeah," he waved over to the next oldest sarcastically, "and you're just gonna let Jay break rule 2 like that."

"Goes with the costume," Jason joked, pointing out why Bruce went with it. The man's jaw clenched at the mention. He didn't want that pointed out to him, not now.

"And this is _my_ costume." The circus kid grinned, making his point to their dad. "Don't you think this is a stretch for 6?"

"Dick—"

"Daddy," Damian started, reaching up to him in hopes of getting picked up. After all, he was a cute kitty cat now. "Get candy now?"

"We're already late," Tim pointed out, waving back to Dick. "And really it's not that bad."

Dick rolled his eyes. "Thanks for the support Tim."

"It is getting late Bruce," Selina edged on. She really didn't want to help babysit all night long, even if two of them were cute kittens right then. "And what's wrong with him learning his lesson at the party? Peacocking like that is pretty normal for boys this age."

"Peacocking!" The teen looked downright outraged.

"It's how they attract mates," she added impishly. This won her a quick glare from Bruce, border lining on alarm. The teen looked away blushing slightly. The lady nudged the man slightly, encouraging him a little. "Bet you dressed like that when you were his age."

"Did not!" Bruce objected loudly, slightly offended. He never dressed like that.

"Sure you didn't." That sly smile on her face told everyone there she'd be asking Alfred later. Selina decided to pick up Damian and start guiding the others to the waiting car. "Come on kiddos. Candy's awaiting."

"Ooo…" Jason grinned as their dad's girlfriend took charge of the situation. He cast impish looks between them all. He then waved one of the guns and followed suit. "Can't wait to see how your legs freeze out on the dance floor Dickybird."

"Hey, it's Robin tonight." He grinned and strode past Bruce, figuring he won that round. "And who are you supposed to be? The Red Jason?"

"Red Hood." The trouble maker's ID took both those left for a spin. Jay put the 'gun' back in its holster. "Thought it'd be a good way to prove I'm over that nut, better than him."

"With guns." Their father shook his head, sensing an oncoming migrane. These two were insane.

"Nah," he continued to grin. "That's just for me. Race ya!"

"Hey! Wait up!" Dick tried to follow him when he took off, only to get his arm grabbed by Bruce for a moment. "What? We're gonna be late."

"We're not finished." The scowl on the man's face told the teen plenty. "Go grab some pants."

"You let Jason run around with fake guns and I'm not allowed to run around in a leotard?" The way they matched glares, it was hard to believe they weren't blood relatives. After a minute, Bruce let go of his arm, realizing he was becoming a hypocrite. He shouldn't have let him have those guns either.

But for the moment, Dick was right. The teen grinned to himself. It wasn't often these days he won an argument. "Come on, we're late enough already."

* * *

"Told ya you were gonna freeze."

"Shut up Jason." Dick moved around the large ballroom, trying to find a place to warm up a bit. Maybe the leotard was a bad idea. But at least he got Barbara to smile. In fact, she was still laughing at him. She promised to dance with him later, but she had come to the party with her dad, and he wasn't up to letting her dance with almost anyone.

Course Bruce was hovering too. Why were they stuck with nosey helicopter parents?

As he moved around the room to avoid Bruce's disapproving stare and get warmer, he took in his surroundings. The Harris' were pretty good with parties. Their marble ballroom was huge and their chandelier was near impossible to jump on to and swing from. Course with all the red, orange, and black steamers coming off of it, plus all the orange light strings, it wouldn't have been a good idea to start swinging from it anyway. The lighting was just enough to create a spookier mood, but not dark enough to frighten anyone.

Which was good because there were a lot of little kids there trying to get candy running around. It was partly a high class 'trunk-or-treat', a safer place for those paranoid parents out there (*coughBrucecough*) to take their kids. Some games and activities were in neighboring rooms for those who were interested. Even karaoke. Everyone was required to dress up as a superhero, and the kids were encouraged to make up their own. There would be a contest at nine for the best one.

Since no one would believe they were the real deal, Bruce was Batman (who laughed at lame jokes and carried a kitty-cat Damian on occasion) and Selina was Catwoman. She was teaching 'Catlad', or Tim, how to swipe candy from a bowl so he could get twice as many when Bruce wasn't looking. 'Batgirl' found her more golden counterpart (their mutual friend Barbara) and the two of them were trying to give her dad (pretending to be Captain Marvel) a heart attack. Jason was holding up people with his painted squirt guns and demanding candy on occasion, but mostly he was bugging Dick and making jibes at his girly legs.

When he wasn't moving around to find some warmth, the acrobat was dancing with someone, talking to someone from school, or trying to flirt. Girls giggled a lot. He would have stuck around Babs but with both their father figures on the lookout, it was best not to look too friendly. And as the night dragged on, he was more interested in getting warm than talking with people. He really should have worn tights instead of a leotard. And combat boots. But he always wanted to try this outfit again. He hadn't worn this kind of outfit since he was eight.

For a moment he fingered the R on his chest, smiling sadly. The anniversary of his parent's death wasn't too long ago. Eight years without them. His mother had put an R on his new costume the night before they…

He closed his eyes for a minute before he looked around again. They'd want him to be happy, and for the most part he was. Half his life now was with Bruce, Alfred, and his siblings. Life was good, when Bruce wasn't being a pigheaded, overprotective, paranoid idiot.

But sometimes that paranoia paid off, and rubbed off on him. Dick's eyes narrowed behind his mask as he spotted something wrong. "Hey Jay."

"It's Red Hood, _Robin_," Jason sneered. His brother tried not to roll his eyes. He always made fun of Dick's mother's pet name for him when he got the chance.

"Yeah, whatever." He pointed to the person dressed like Vigilante. "Does that gun look real to you?"

Red Hood pulled up his facemask and glared over to the man he was pointing to. His eyes narrowed a fraction before the teen nodded, frowning slightly. "Looks like it. And not a police issue one either."

"Thought so." And judging by how it hung, he was certain the thing was loaded. A bad feeling started to swell within him. Dick looked around and spotted a few more 'heroes' with guns. Jonah Hex, Bat Lash, Jonny Thunder, mostly western heroes. There was one who looked like Malcom Renolds from Firefly, but after getting closer to the guy, he saw it was just a spray painted nerf gun. Looking around the place, Dick noticed about a dozen people with real guns, all of them at the ready for use, and none of the carriers were cops.

"We've got a problem," Dick murmured to Jason and Cass as he finished making it around the room. She had joined up with them when she left Barbara for some drinks. Cass gave him a curious look behind her cowl while Jason just watched their backs. After who knew how many kidnappings and hostage situations they'd faced, each of them knew what to do if a scenario popped up. So he told them what he saw, and what he suspected.

"I think we're about to get held up."

"We should tell Dad," Cass immediately stated. Dick shook his head, causing both of them to raise eyebrows at him.

"Commissioner Gordon's here," he said evenly. He looked over to the older cop and knew he was getting ready to leave. Barbara was looking around her as well, probably looking for Dick or Cass come to think of it. She had promised him a dance. "Bruce would tell us to get to the car and then tell him. By then it could be too late."

"So what? You want to take out the middle man?" Jason murmured, still watching the gunmen. Dick nodded. "Better hurry then birdboy. I think they're making their move."

Seeing what his brother saw, the acrobat started moving, his siblings in tow. He was about ten feet from the Commissioner and his lovely daughter when 'Hex' took out his gun and started firing at the ceiling. The other cowboy heroes then took out their guns and did likewise. Dick didn't think twice before grabbing both his siblings' collars and pulling them under a covered table, hiding them all from view. Screams and chattering glass could be heard all around them. They knew the sound system was trashed a minute or so later, then they heard the shots end and the silence that followed.

"May I have your attention please!"

The three little heroes uncovered their heads and looked through the cracks between table cloths to see who their assailants were. Still a dozen people, all western themed. Their identities were hidden the same way the original heroes were, and the more creative westerners had bandanas. Mal was huddling with the others around the room. Through one hole Dick could see Bruce shielding Tim and Damian with his body, Selina right next to them. Only the three year old was scared; the other three were glaring behind their masks. Commissioner Gordon was also glaring at the head gunman while trying to protect Barbara. She seemed just as calm as Dick and the others who were hiding under the table.

The leader, 'Hex', was grinning as he started explaining things. "As you all know, this is Halloween. Me and my friends are going to do some trick-or-treating here, so I want you all to hand over the goodies. Now don't think that your pretty little costumes can't have anything of worth on it; I know you types. Antique pins, real gold, good weaponry, I know you have something on you worth at least ten grand. If it isn't part of your costume, it'll be your wallets, your cellphones, and that lovely jewelry of yours. Don't bother calling anyone. We've got a signal jammer in place and cut the phone lines here long before the first shots were fired.

"Now if you'll be so kind to hand over your valuables to your nearest trick-or-treater, this will go a lot more smoothly. Resist and…" 'Hex' grinned. "Well, wouldn't want to scare the kiddos anymore than we already have now, do we?"

"Okay," Jason murmured, "now what?" He looked over to the other two, slightly exasperated. Though each of them had kept their heads, none of them were fond of being victims.

"Think the signal watches will work?" Cass asked curiously.

Dick cringed, shaking his head slightly. "The League is all off world, all the lead members at least. The reserves don't know who we are yet. No one's coming."

Jason looked through the crack again, glaring slightly. "Dad can't do anything with everyone watching. They'll connect too many dots."

"So we're on our own?" The three of them locked eyes as they tried to think this over. A dozen men with guns, sixty to eighty hostages. What was the likelihood of a mishap? Of someone picking one of the kids as a hostage so they could run off safely? Plus what if one of those guys actually searched Bruce or Selina or even Gordon? All of them kept their gear on them. Exposure to some extent was imminent. They couldn't let it get that far.

They were on their own. And they had to act fast.

The three of them looked down thinking, remembering the terrain best they could. After a few minutes, Dick gave them a huge grin. "Got it. Okay, this is what we'll do."

* * *

"Well well well now," 'Bat Lash' loomed over the actual Batman, poking him with his gun. Thanks to the mask he didn't know what he was up against, but he was more focused on the pouches than what laid behind the cowl. "Trick-or-treat pops. Empty the belt."

"For candy?" Batman raised an eyebrow at his assailant. He wasn't about to open up his belt, especially since everything inside it was meant for taking down these men. He hadn't figured out a discrete way to take these men down yet, but there were other things to worry about. Damian was shaking in his arms and he hadn't seen his other three children since before shots fired. Selina and Tim were taking everything well so far, but his date's instincts to run away were getting stronger. She was ready to rabbit any second now.

"I doubt there's just candy in that belt." The bandit pulled back the hammer on the gun, pointed straight at the Bat's head. The sharp gasps around him were lost on him as his mind carelessly flew back to that fateful night long ago. Just what he needed, to relive his trauma when he was needed most by those he cared about.

Thankfully then was when the streamers above them decided to fall, along with a lot of balloon popping. The sounds and drifting papers out of the corner of his eye made him withdraw his gun in surprise. "What the hell?"

A dinner plate was thrown perfectly into his hand, knocking the gun out of his hand as it fired off into the ceiling. Cackling soon followed, along with other dinner plates being thrown around the room, knocking even more guns out of hands. "Hex! What's going on?! GAH!"

With a couple more plates thrown into the man's body, mostly his head, 'Bat Lash' was down and out. All the gunmen jerked around towards the tables, pointing their guns at it. But they couldn't see anyone. It was too dark to see clearly. "Get out from under there! Or so help me-"

He didn't get to finish his statement 'cause another plate shot out of a darker area, hitting his temple, knocking him clear out. With the head of the group out cold, the others started to panic. And so did a certain guardian.

'_What are they doing?!_'

Batman had night vision lenses so he could see everything clearly. Jason was near the tables, preparing something from the food and drinks lying about there. Cass was halfway up a nearby wall, climbing towards one of the decorative alcoves currently keeping certain high hanging item up. Dick though, he was the kicker. The teen was flitting around the room, keeping both out of the way and nearby to distract the men, throwing plates at every odd interval. And cackling. He was being the distraction.

"Show yourself!"

"Ya want me?" Robin jeered. "Ya got me!"

Within a split second, the teen was out of the shadows, charging at the second in command. He narrowly dodged each bullet fired at him before making it close enough to slap his gun arm away, then kicking him in the chest then face, almost walking up him. Immediately he flipped back to regain balance, crouched low and swiped a kick under his feet before he could even blink. No. 3 was down.

"That was fun. Who's next?" The kid grinned up at the next gunman.

"Son of a—"

That earned the bandit a swift kick in the teeth. "Watch your mouth! There's kids here!" A quick elbow blow to his neck took that one down. "_That's_ rule 6 Calamity Jane."

"Get 'em!"

All at once the gunmen started charging at Robin, firing on occasion as they were wary of hitting their allies. The teen grinned at them, digging one hand into his own utility belt as he dodged each shot. Again he was in the air, flipping over his opponents, but also striking one of their nerves and tossing marbles and jacks at their feet to trip them up.

He weaved through them, heading back to the table while taking out the legs of another man with ease. The marbles tripped a few of them up, sending a couple of them sprawling and landing had on the jacks, pointy ends diving into each of their skins.

As more shots were fired, the boy wonder slid under the table cloths, just as the table was flipped over for extra cover by Jason. During Robin's distraction, he had moved all the liquids onto the one table and now every kind of drink, from koolaid to wine, spread over the floor and onto the men. A row of cakes also splattered all over the guys left, blinding them temporarily and jamming their guns.

Then the lights above them dropped on their heads, all small, but already made unstable because of the previous shots fired at them. While blinded and distracted by even more falling ropes, Robin gained his second wind, leaping over the toppled table and grabbing the swinging cords to wrap around the remaining volatiles. Just as he finished his last go around the group, he tightened the makeshift lasso, making the men clash heads.

"I'll take it from here son."

Commissioner Gordon's hand grabbed Robin's shoulder, startling him slightly and nearly letting go of the cord he was using to strike out just in case. Behind him he could see a few other off duty cops coming out of the woodwork and tying up the down and out gunmen he took down earlier. One of them was roping one he missed and another was being pinned to the ground by Barbara. He hadn't paid as much attention to others after he came out of the shadows himself. The crowd wasn't completely full of scared rich folk.

Robin gave a relieved smile, relaxing a little. He handed over the last bit of the cord to the older man, letting go of the whole problem. "Just doing my part sir. And I think we've got this pretty much wrapped up."

"One can only hope." Jason came out from behind the tables at last, glad this fiasco was over. Cassandra dropped from her vantage point a few seconds later, coming towards them eagerly. Gordon was already at work, reading the assailants their Miranda Rights and cuffing them with zip ties. The three of them grinned at each other as the crowd gathered around them, very interested in their heroes. "Not bad for our first time in the field eh?"

The boy wonder laughed. "Not bad at all."

"Hey kid!" Someone came up to the brightly colored mock hero, who was now a hero. "That was amazing! Where'd you learn all that stuff?"

"Oh, here and there," he tried, waving it off. Dick really should be getting back to his family. But the attention was pretty cool. He hadn't gotten this kind of attention for what he did since the circus.

"Kiddo! Jack Ryder, Gotham Channel Five. Can I get a statement?" The guy had a mini camera on him, a good quality one. Had he been recording the whole time?

"Holy…" Dick's eyes went wide at it. He wasn't shy of a crowd, but cameras still got to him.

"Hey!" Jason jumped next to him. "Don't we get a say in this? We helped save the day too ya know."

"Don't take all the credit Dick," Cassandra piped in, still hiding behind her cowl.

The teen laughed, then hung an arm around each of their necks. "Couldn't have done it without them! Jay here came up with that table thing and Cass came up with the end play. I was just getting all the bad guys' attentions. Shame about the cake though."

"I know, isn't it?" The kids laughed at their joke before more questions came their way, most of them aimed at Dick. He even pulled off his mask after five minutes of talking, grinning broadly as the new people and a few victims came up to talk and say thanks. All the while he could see a large dark form in one corner of the room, trying to get closer to him. There was a slight scowl on his face.

And that one didn't bode well.

* * *

"Alfred, mind putting the others to bed?" Bruce pulled his cowl down, glaring slightly forward. One hand was on Dick's shoulder and the teen couldn't for the life of him figure out why the guy was so ticked. He knew he was, but… why?

"Of course sir." The butler helped guide the little ones towards their bedrooms, despite protests from Jason and Cassandra. "Come along."

"Dad," Jason tried, some concern on his face due to the man's scowl, "what are you—"

"Bed," he ordered sharply. "Now."

"But-"

One more glare silenced any protest from the rest of them. Damian was too sleepy to care and Tim was trying to keep him awake long enough to get to bed on his own. Cass sent a worried look to Jason, who likewise was wondering what was going on. Dad was in a bad mood all evening, ever since Dick showed off his costume. So what if it didn't have normal pants. It was no reason to drag their older brother away for a lecture.

But one more look from both Bruce and Dick, saying it was between the two of them only, and they stopped trying to interfere. All four of them trudged upstairs to their rooms, ready to sleep despite sugar and adrenaline running through them. Once they were out of sight, Bruce tugged Dick towards the study. "This way."

"Why'd you just send Selina home instead of letting her stay the night like you planned?" This earned the teen a sharp glare, which only increased the kid's uneasiness. Neither of them spoke until after the man had them in the cave. Batman had to put away his suit after all. "Okay, what did I do wrong this time?"

"Do you know what you did back there?"

"Saved everyone's lives?"

"You put everyone in danger with that stunt of yours!" The Bat glared sharply, his temper rising by the second.

"Nobody was hurt," the bird tried to convince him.

"This time. You got lucky they weren't willing to take out their own men! I didn't teach you to fight just to risk your life like that."

"No, you taught to save myself and others," the teen shot back. "You used to do it all the time!"

"Do you remember why I stopped?" He gave a piercing glare now, striking the teen through the chest. Of course he remembered why. Because of him."You could have gotten Jason and Cassandra killed!"

"They volunteered! And their ideas worked didn't they?" Dick shook his head, trying to make him understand. "What does it matter if we took a few risks? Everything turned out alright."

"You got lucky."

"I call it planning."

"You could have been shot!" Some worry entered his shout. That was what he was really worried about, Dick and the others getting hurt.

"You would have been!" This made the man take a mental step back. He jumped into the fray for him? Dick breathed in and out hard for a moment before continuing. "You froze up when that gun was pointed at your head. We had to act fast."

"I didn't freeze up! Gordon was there, he had a plan. As a _civilian_, I was following it." Jim had to have had a plan. He was counting on it. His trusted ally inside the police department all these years, in and out of the cowl, was definitely able to outsmart those gunmen.

"They were watching him! They were watching everyone! The only ones they weren't watching were us!"

"You need to trust him to do his job!" Couldn't this kid see how much danger they were in?

"Like you used to? Batman?" The irony in his voice was not lost on the man.

"I trusted him," the man insisted. "But I wanted to help, in my own way."

"So do I!" Dick took a step forward, earnestly trying to convince him like he tried so many years before. "Bruce, I've _always_ wanted to do this! I _never_ wanted you to retire! I wanted to join you in the field, not keep you home! _This_ is the life I've wanted!"

"So you want a life of constant danger? Fearing for the lives of those around you? Not knowing if you'll make it home every night because someone got lucky? Not being able to have a real relationship because the job keeps getting in the way?" These were possibilities Alfred told him when he donned cape and cowl. His fears and close calls.

"What relationship?" The teen stabbed back. "You won't even let me date!"

An older argument brought back for airing. "Dick, you're too young to—"

"To what?! Know what I want in life?!" Dick was done being told what to do. Done with all the restricting rules and policies. Done having to be obedient all the time. He wanted to be his own man, for once in his life. "Bruce I'm sixteen!"

"Exactly! You have no idea-"

"I know exactly what I want Bruce! I've seen it! I want to do this! I want to _be_ Robin!" He tugged at the R on his chest, earnestly trying to convince the man. This really was what he wanted. "You saw how it went tonight! I kicked their butts, saved everyone's life, and no one got hurt!"

"You got lucky! That's all!" Really, that was all. The kid got lucky. Previous experience tied with strokes of luck is what saved them that night. Couldn't he see how close he got to being hurt? Those bullets came so close to him, Bruce nearly had a heart attack. He was terrified for the

"Was it luck? Really?" The teen's body screamed frustration. "Even Catwoman thought I did a good job. Is that why you sent her home? Because she was praising me?!"

"This isn't about her!" Why was he bringing Selina in on this? She had no place in this debate.

"Why not! You're sleeping with her!"

At this the man's eyes grew wide in anger. How dare he… Dick threw his hands up to change the subject, just as angry. "You know what? You're right. It's not about her. It's not even about me saving all those people! It's about how you won't let me make my own decisions!"

"Dick!"

"I'm sixteen years old Bruce!" His voice rose several decibels as he told him what he thought was really wrong here. "I can make my own choices! If I want to be a vigilante or a cop, it's up to me! If I want to have a date with Babs, it's my choice! If I want to go skydiving—"

"Not under this roof!" That was not going to happen. The kid had no idea what he was getting himself into.

"That's the problem! Right there! You won't let me do anything I want! Your rules! Your plans! Your agendas! I don't have a single say in the matter!" The boy wonder flung his hands at him, indicating exactly where he felt the problem was.

"You have no idea what kind of danger you're putting yourself into!" There was a problem. Dick didn't listen! He thought—

"I know exactly what I'm doing! You just don't trust me to do it alone! I'm not a little kid anymore!"

Yeah right. "I'll believe that after I see it! You are a kid! No matter what you say! Now promise me you won't—"

"NO!" He glared burning daggers at the man. "You're not my father Bruce! Stop telling me what to do!"

"Dick!" The teen turned sharply and ran back up the stairs into the manor above, leaving the dark knight in the dust shouting after him. "Get back down here! Dick!"

But his shouts were ignored. He started following after the boy but stopped as the full implications of what he said hit him.

'_You're not my father…_'

A bolt of lightning struck him, forcing him to take a few steps back. '_Not my father…_' His head went into his hands as he stumbled away. '_Not my father…_' Numbly he slung into his chair. '_Not my father… Stop telling me what to do!_'

'_What have I done?_' Dick had been with him so long, he almost forgot he wasn't really his. For years he thought of him as his own son and so many people commented that he was. And to be told otherwise by him… The pain and numbness flowing through him was unlike anything he had experienced. Those words hurt him more than any bullet or knife wound.

'_You're not my father… Stop telling me what to do!_'

How could he have forgotten, let it slip by? Dick was always so childlike, time had seemed to slip pass him. Sixteen. The kid was sixteen. Sixteen wasn't that young anymore. There was only a seventeen year age gap between them. Why didn't he see this coming? But most of all… '_What have I done?_'

* * *

Dick didn't just slam his door and lock it. He dragged his desk in front of it to keep everyone out. He did not want visitors; he did not want to talk. All he wanted was Bruce to give him some space! That was all! He was sixteen years old. Sixteen and a half really. He was a senior too! For eight years he obeyed every stupid rule (well mostly) and been a very good older brother. He did what Bruce wanted him to do, regardless of what he wanted. He stopped the man from making horrible mistakes even. But the guy just wouldn't let him grow up! Wouldn't let him live his own life!

Okay, so wearing a leotard and pixie boots was probably a bad idea, but he didn't regret saving everyone that night. He never would. Why would he? It was great! He saved lives, fought bad guys, and honestly it was fun. He never could go all out like that before and it was great to finally get to. The thrill of it all… so addictive. He missed it from that night he and Batman took down Zucco. He missed it from his days at the circus. What he did tonight, he'd never regret it.

Fighting with Bruce? Well… the guy deserved it. Dick rolled over on his bed, half his costume strewn about the room, trying to ignore his uneasiness and focused on his anger. Bruce deserved it. He really did. That was the only thought that could satisfy him as he tried to drift off to an uneasy sleep.

* * *

A/N: and that's The Argument! I've edited this one about a dozen times and I think this is a good time to post it, at last. That was a hard fight to write. Fights always are hard to do, especially with these two. Hope I did the fight justice, or at least this version of it.

Like all the cameos? We've got two Batgirls, Red Hood, Robin in his pixie boots glory at 16, and the fanmade Catlad! Plus the real Batman and Catwoman get a chance to go out in public. Damian's three, he's just a cat. Either way it's something of a holiday for Selina. I had to do some digging to get all the western heroes, but Malcolm Reynolds was a total Firefly reference Gotta love space cowboys. XD and then we had the Creeper, before he became insane.

Where will this lead? Well, how else do you catch someone's attention? B3


	47. Stalker

Just an FYI, since the writing of the 'Sacrifice' arc is moving along rather nicely, I've decided to put this up. An expanded version of this will go up in TT:cartoons after all the important parts are done to the arc. Thank you for your patience.

Dick-16 Jason-13 Cass-11 Tim-9 Damian-3

* * *

**Stalker**

The back of his neck prickled, making him look around curiously. Someone was watching him. It was a sense he picked up years ago before his first kidnapping. Or was it from the first time he was bombarded with question from the press without Bruce around? Either way, he knew someone was watching him, and not in a good way.

"Dick? What's wrong?" Tim looked up to his brother, pulling on his hand. He had promised to take his siblings out to an ice cream or coffee shop after school. Easy to do now that he had a license and car of his own. A short walk around the central shops on the northern island was worth it if it gave them a sense of freedom for a few minutes.

But with someone lurking in the shadows watching them, they weren't going to really get any of that. "Nothing much. Just a feeling."

"What kind of feeling?" Jason looked around too, trying to see what the older teen sensed. Dick was usually very perceptive. Cass was looking around as well, looking up more than down.

"Almost like someone's taking my picture," he admitted. "Someone from the tabloids looking for dirt."

"From where?"

"Not sure…"

"Whoever's watching us is really good at hiding." Cass gave a frustrated huff before giving up and looking at shops again. They hadn't picked a place yet. "A lot better than that photographer last week. How about brownies and cocoa?"

"I think that last nut gave me a rash," Jason admitted, scratching his shoulder. He pouted a bit when he saw a closed sign. "I wanted ice cream."

"Only southern states sell ice cream this time of year." Dick lifted the collar of his coat with one hand while unconsciously attempting to shield Tim from whatever person was watching them. He tightened his grip on the boy's hand at the very least, keeping him close. He made a point of holding on to his kid brother ever since his last kidnapping (which seriously rattled everyone) and no one made a fuss about it, especially Tim. Even if it was just bat-paranoia (a very highly intuitive protectiveness Bruce instilled in them) it never hurt to be cautious. "Kinda a shame. They come up with pretty interesting ones this time of year in Arizona."

"Maybe we can get the brownies ala mode?"

Jason smirked, satisfied with that answer. "Sounds good by me. Cass and I can split it then. So, you in _Robin_?"

The oldest rolled his eyes but still looked around suspiciously. He really couldn't shake the feeling. If it were just him, he'd probably push it off as paranoia. But Cass felt it too, and Jason to a lesser degree. Someone was watching them, and he didn't like it. "Sure. Just pick a seat near the back door and—"

"Away from the windows." His siblings' united chorus got him to look at them, raising an eyebrow. Jason gave him a snarky 'you're being ridiculous' smirk. "Yes _Dad_."

"Hey!" Caution was thrown into the wind as they teased each other all the way to the Ma and Pop diner on the corner, ignoring the sensation of being watched once again.

* * *

"Hey Dick!" Freddy O'Hara took out his iPhone and brought up a vid, passing it over to his friend at the lunch table. "Have you seen this?"

"What is it?" Dick repositioned his head to make sure the sun didn't blot it out, a cheap sandwich from the vending machine in one hand. He overslept that morning and forgot to raid the fridge for lunch before shooing his siblings into his car so they wouldn't be late to school. Didn't happen very often but when it did it was very inconvenient. Plus his friends gave him odd looks when they saw it.

Freddy was one of the few that didn't care and shared cool youtube vids whenever he could. This was titled 'Wonder Boy PWNs Cowboys'. The acrobat's eyes widened in surprise as he saw something that happened almost a month ago. "You."

"'Wonder Boy'? It was 'Boy Wonder'!" His friends laughed as they crowded around the one phone, watching the vid. "Seriously! I told Ryder it was 'Robin Boy Wonder' and that he better not get it wrong. I've got nothing on Wonder Woman."

"Yeah sure." Travis Murdock pointed at a certain flip that sent the teen soaring through the air. "Tell me you can't fly."

"Not like Superman." Dick couldn't help but grin at the sight. That was a really good move. "It's all about momentum. With enough practice, anyone can do that."

"Where'd you learn that trick!" Sean Bond pointed to a flip-turn-kick, his eyes bulging at the sight, one that rendered the gunman unconscious.

He cringed a little. "My sister, believe it or not. She's really good. She just needs to see a move twice before she can do it, and by the end of the day she turns it into an art form."

"I still can't believe you took down twenty guys on your own like this," Jessica Tanvern gaped, wincing at a well delivered blow at another guy.

"It was eleven and it wasn't on my own." He grinned at her anyway. "I was just the lead showman. How far has this vid gotten anyway?"

"Everywhere!" As soon as the fight ended Freddy pulled back up the page, showing the views. "Two million and counting. You should sell tickets."

"But my name's not even on there, see?" Dick pointed to the credits. No mention of his name anywhere, and the vid cut short of him taking off his mask. No one knew who did this. "I can't take credit, at all."

"Why not?" Sean leaned away, looking at his friend curiously. "You saved lives and spoiled a robbery. And you looked good doing it."

"That's a matter of opinion." They all snickered at the costume again.

"Why can't you take credit for this?" Jess looked over him, little curious.

Dick gave a long sigh before admitting things to him. "Bruce won't let it happen. He buried the story after it got out so it's now a tabloid rumor or a thing on youtube. He says it's for my safety but…" He sighed, shaking his head. "That guy… You should have heard the lecture he gave me after that. And when he told me not to accept interviews or act out like that again…"

"You two've been fighting?"

"A lot." He slumped over on the table, glaring at nowhere. "Every other time I'm in the room with him he tries to tell me what to do next because of some _thing_ he's thought of at work. And it always applies to me. It's gotten to the point I'm not talking to him and avoiding even being in the same room. Don't even know how I'll survive Thanksgiving."

"Come to my place!" Freddy clapped him on the back excitedly. "My grandparents will love it! I mean, I'm their only grandchild and I don't exactly have that many cousins. There's so much food left over and—"

"I'll run it by Alfred. Thanks." He gave his friend a smile, reassuring the two of them. His other friends grinned at him too, mostly because he was sticking it to the system. Teenage rebellion at its best. The only bad part about that plan though was not being able to spend the time with his siblings. They'd be the ones who'd be hurt the most by this. And he'd miss Alfred's cooking

'_I'll just have to talk to them about the pros and cons here_,' Dick reasoned, just as he looked towards the parking lot not too far from them. He almost glared at the unoffending vehicles, trying to find the source of his discomfort.

"This is gonna be so cool! Think you can come by my place for Hanukah then?"

"Maybe."

"What are you looking at?" Jess' concern when he gave a dismissive answer to Travis wasn't lost on her.

"Hm?" The acrobat jerked his head around, blinking at her. "Oh… nothing. Just… Just a feeling."

* * *

It wasn't long after he and Bruce, through Alfred, made a compromise about Thanksgiving and a public event appearance that Dick found himself wandering the streets of Gotham, long after curfew. He snuck out of the house, left his watch at home and carried a burner phone, all so he could have a secret date with Barbara. Movies and a late night snack, nothing much but so worth it if only to defy their parents. They met up with a few of their old high school friends (most were in college except the ones Dick still hung out with) and had coffee after.

Now everyone else had gone home and he wanted more time to wander. The last bus to Bristol hadn't gone yet, and he was planning on hitching a free ride on top anyway, so he turned down everyone's offers to drive him home. And some nights it was just nice to just walk around.

Most of the shops were closed but looking at the display windows was fun too. He could get an idea what to buy everyone at random later. It'd be fun to check them out the next day, if Bruce didn't realize he snuck out like this. Again.

He'd been doing it a lot lately, sneaking away from Wayne Manor, going off the radar, and telling no one where he was going next. Nothing on him could be traced by Bruce, he made sure of it. He bought every item on him with cash from second hand stores just so he could be invisible. And this late at night being invisible helped. Bruce keeping him and his siblings out of the media helped with his anonymity right then, so he could disappear.

But even when he was supposed to be invisible, just some kid going home late at night, he wasn't. That feeling of being watched, followed even, nagged at him full force about five blocks away from the coffee shop. Dick tried to lose the guy via normal person methods, all the while checking reflections.

There was someone following him. Three someones. Big and burly guys, with cliché black ski caps and gloves to match their jackets. Three guys… '_No guns. Knives? No, doesn't look like it. Knuckles? Possibly. Taser? If they're smart. No other supplies so not a kidnapping. Not planned. Muggers. Great._'

Seeing he couldn't lose them like a normal person, Dick ducked into an alley, still weighing his options. '_Evade, attack, antagonize, or turn in? Question is, do I want a fight or do I just want to go home?_' He took out his second cell and smirked. Bus didn't cross his path for another fifteen minutes. "What the hell."

Just as he predicted, the three muggers tailed after him, only to find an empty alley. Well, empty except for an eerie cackle. It was hard not to jerk these guys around. Watching them look around stupidly for their target only made it more inviting. "So! Do you make a habit of stalking young handsome men or am I just your type?"

It took another second or so of enraged looking around for one of them to spot him perched on the fire escape just above them. He grinned devilishly at them, glad he hit a few nerves. "Cause I have to tell you right now, none of you are my type. Too… everything. Geh…"

"Wunna say that to my face pretty boy?!" The largest (and maybe the stupidest?) of them launched himself at the ladder barely within reach so he could grab him.

"Oh so you admit, I'm pretty." Dick just grinned at them as they tried getting up to where he was. The first (George from now on) was half way up the ladder when he stood up and the second (Steve) as starting to climb after him, some brass knuckles already in place. He kept up his mockery of them as they came closer. "I think I'm pretty too, and the girls seem to think I am. I just don't get to hear it too much from men twice my age, and size. Well, size up here. I don't know about down there."

This really got the men mad at him, just as George came within arms distance. "Shut the f—"

He never got to complete that sentence. Dick had already grabbed the bar above him from the steps and lifted himself into a two-leg kick, shoving that guy into his partner and into the dumpster below them. Quickly he sprung forward, leapt to the drain pipe just next to it and held on as he kicked the lid own on top of them. He swore he heard heads knocking it as he shoved off the side of the building and towards the last guy (Mike).

Mike was already peeing his pants. And all Dick had to do was laugh again. This was getting fun. "What? Scared of the pretty boy? If you think I'm scary, you should see my boss."

"To hell with this!" Mike turn tail and ran in the opposite direction as fast as his two legs could carry him.

The teenager pouted dramatically. "Aw… there goes my fun!" Out of the corner of his eye he saw the dumpster lid lift slightly and quickly slapped it shut. He spotted a normal trashcan lid next to hit and grinned, swiping it. Quickly he whipped it about and threw it soaring at the runner. The man never made it out of the alleyway. "He shoots, he scores! Two points! Stay." Again he slapped the lid down, glaring at it slightly.

Dick was about to tie the thing down so the muggers wouldn't escape when he saw a bus roll by. He only glimpsed the number but that was all he needed to freak out. The last bus to Bristol was early! "Ah crap!"

Instantly he leapt back up the fire escape and onto the nearest rooftop. He had to get on that bus or it'd take three hours to walk it! Bruce would definitely notice then, and nothing Alfred could do would save him then. Soon he was running on rooftops, imaging he was just doing tricks at the circus to make it less dangerous in his head. It helped him with his footing and his tiring race against the bus. He sincerely hoped someone or something would stall it for a minute or two so he could catch up.

When he landed on top of the bus and hitched a free ride, he wasn't the only one smiling.

* * *

'_What the heck?_' Dick looked around for a moment before glaring forward and sulking again. That feeling was back. Again. He'd been getting it a lot, and now at the opening of a youth center it was impossible to determine exactly where it's coming from. And the scary thing was, more than once in the past month and a half he was right. Someone was watching him, many someones.

So far he'd spoiled two kidnapping attempts, evaded a handful of reporters, and taken down five possible muggers. The fighters had gotten progressively better, but not impossible to beat. They were out of towners, people who hadn't worked with the local criminals and heard the 'Wayne kids' weren't the best targets to grab. Not if you wanted money. And these paparazzi were given good information, nearly cornering him once or twice.

But Dick was always better, at evasion or self-defense. He had to protect Tim one time and had Jason's help another time. Being attacked or bombarded by people wasn't unusual for him, but the feeling of being watched, even after taking down the bad guys or making his escape, was something he'd never get used to.

Ignoring Bruce's speech, he took another look around, unnerved by the feeling he had. The nagging feeling that someone was watching him, seriously watching him, wouldn't leave him. It was even overriding his anger at the man at the pulpit. He and the others had to make a public appearance at a youth center's opening, suits and all. Waiting in the seats near the stage, in the cold, was enough reason for him to scowl, but it was just being watched that made him uncomfortable.

"Master Timothy," Alfred chided, bouncing Damian on his knee as they waited for the proceedings to end, "refrain from scratching your leg."

"But it itches like crazy!" Tim changed from scratching the side of his left knee to slapping it, keeping his voice low. "I don't think that lotion's working."

"Not if you do not allow it to work."

"That's what happens when you take hikes through poison oak to take pictures of birds," Jason murmured next to Cass, on the opposite end of the row from Dick. The girl just rolled her eyes and did her best not to be involved. "Way to go nature boy."

"I can't control where it grows," the kid mumbled, pouting slightly. His hand itched to scratch that spot again but Dick covered it instead, giving him a slight smile. Seeing it, the boy relaxed a little and leaned against him. He had missed him, more than either would admit. "You want to see my pictures later?"

"So long as they don't include blood and gore." That made Tim smile, just in time for the speech to end. Everyone clapped, even the three year old who had no idea what was really going on, glad the speech was over. Lucius Fox cut a ribbon and everyone was allowed to enter the new building. Everyone stood up and Dick took another look around, still feeling like he was under a microscope.

"Something wrong?" Bruce's question brought Dick's mind back to current events. He looked over to the man, debating whether or not to tell him. To tell him about the feeling he's had for the past month or so that someone has been watching him. To tell him how he was targeted while not being on the grid out on the town at night, by amateurs who had way too much intel for their actual skill sets. To tell him he was a little scared because of some faceless person he couldn't be sure about following him nearly everywhere.

But instead he just smiled his poster boy smile for the cameras. "Nothing I can't handle."

The man frowned slightly, concern in his face. "Dick, if there's something—"

"Hey Lucius!" Bypassing Bruce and his questions, he strode forward to his second in command at the company, evading any form of confrontation. No scene for the press during an event and really, Tim and Damian did not need to see the two of them fighting again. "What's inside this place anyway? Any high wires or trampolines?"

The one who raised him just watched him for a moment, some pain and regret on his face. He really needed to talk to him and sort this out, somehow. After having his youngest deposited in his arms, he really felt he should have stopped his oldest, tried talking to him again. Something was bothering him, something he didn't know about. He could tell. And it bothered him too.

"Oh sorry." Someone bumped into Bruce on accident, but nearly squished Damian in the process. The kid screeched at the contact, swinging a fist back at the man angrily. His father caught it and started to calm him down, looking for the person who had touched them, but couldn't find him. The man looked like a homeless drunk trying to snake through the crowd for the food table earlier, but to vanish like that so easily…

"Weird." He heard a camera go off and looked down to Tim, taking pictures of the crowd. "Tim, stop that. Most people don't like surprise photographers."

The kid pouted but put his camera away obediently. "Can we go home now?"

* * *

Nearly everything was in place. Nearly. Just a few more pieces, and then his wish would be fulfilled.

* * *

A/N: Kudos to those who can figure out who's stalking Dick! Yeah, should be obvious by now. Anywho, for fair warning, the arc is looking like 20 chapters long (it's already over 100 pages). I'll probably have to condense it further, cut scenes and chapters, and reduce what goes in further for the DNBverse core threat here. Which will make the extended version in TT that much better. If anyone wants to beta and help me trim the fat, PM me (seriously, _please do_). I really want to make the arch a series of one-shots but there's so many good bits i want to include and FYIs and angles and characters... *shakes head* It's taking a lot out of me. Spent most of today looking up references just to make it good, and that's for some very necessary scenes.

Anywho, like I said before, these stalking bits will be expanded, explained upon, and put into further detail, _later._ I just needed it clear that something was going bad. Dick's calming down here too, not as mad as Halloween (yes, he was a brat, but he was also being a super stubborn, argumentitive, independence seeking 16 year old who hasn't taken down hundreds of bad guys. Teenagers can be brats, even golden boy), but he hasn't made peace yet with Bruce, and everyone's suffering for it.

Timmy now has his camera too, that's important. ;] Well, one more short before the arch starts. Someone reminded me of a discussion Dick adn Jay had to have before anything else happens, adn it happened in the middle of his, somewhere. Til next time! ^^V


	48. Won't Run

Well I've got some good news! I'm nearly done writing the condensed version of 'Sacrifice'! Just a little more resolution and an afterward, then a lot of condensing. there were a lot of scenes I wanted to include but I'm thinking no due to length. There will be an expanded version going in Teen Titans when I've got it all posted on this line. So! here's a part that kinda fits wherever in the last chapter, time wise. This is why Dick didn't run away after the fight. Enjoy!

Dick–16 Jason-13

* * *

**Won't Run**

Dick ran back into his room, slamming his door angrily. Another fight with Bruce, this time because he was caught sneaking out after curfew, by camera. The old man was stalking him! Okay, so he broke rule 4 constantly, leaving his watch/tracer in his bedroom every time he snuck out the window. He bypassed one of the highest quality security systems in the world over and over again. Bruce should at least be impressed with that.

Okay he was. But that guy was so particular about home security! Particularly about their bedrooms and wherever they were at the moment. If he couldn't find one of them at a moment's notice, the man freaked. Dick thought he could sneak past all the man's defenses after he managed to put a subroutine into the security camera's programming, but the man found it that morning. At least he waited until they all made it home to start reprimanding him.

Seriously he was sixteen! He had a car! And a motorcycle! If Bruce would just lighten up on the curfew, he'd use them more and then he wouldn't be falling off the grid so much. Seriously! The guy was such a control freak! He had to know where he was every second of the day and it was suffocating! It was no wonder Selina vanished again. Who would want to deal with Bruce in obsessive mode?! He certainly didn't want to.

Blocking the door so Bruce couldn't unlock it and continue the debate with his desk, he flopped onto his bed, glaring at the roof. Seriously! He was a senior in high school! Couldn't he give him some slack? He'd be graduating after next term and then be going off to college. He was practically an adult! Couldn't he treat him more like one instead of like a juvenile delinquent on probation?! That man…

A light rhythmic knocking came from his door, making him roll his eyes but get off his bed anyway. It wasn't Bruce. His knocking was always heavier and the rhythm was a password he cooked up with one particular sibling. Again he shoved his desk, just enough to let that person in, if he wanted to. "What is it Jason?"

"Nice to see you too." He presented him with some brownies. "We made these at school. Want some?"

"Are you sure Bruce or Alfred would approve?" It wasn't like Dick was saying no, just warning him he may get in trouble for this.

"Who cares?" That was all the older boy needed to smirk and let him in. As soon as the two teenagers were in the room, Dick replaced the desk as a barrier. The brownies were placed on the bed between them after a minute and they started snacking. "So, what's the deal this time?"

The acrobat rolled his eyes. "He caught me sneaking out."

"You've been doing that for years!" A slight smirk crossed his face. "How did he catch you?"

"Found that trick I did to the cameras. Security updates killed me." He stuffed a brownie in his mouth, pouting. "Shoulda seen it coming. He's gonna be on my case about curfew for a while I bet. Really that guy is unbearable!"

"Yeah, Dad can be a royal pain in the ass, but he means well." Jason smirked at his brother's raised eyebrow. "What, think I haven't noticed? He's such a traumatized stickler on rule 2 he won't let me play any of the cool popular games. It really makes it hard to make friends when you can't talk Halo or Assassin's Creed."

Dick stifled a laugh. "Well normally I wouldn't mind that, but the people I hang out with prefer late night lattes, movies, and bowling. He really eats at my social life because I want to hang out."

"And how many robberies and muggings happen late at night?" The light glare he received made the trouble maker throw up his hands. "Just pointing it out. Every rule has its reason, and you're forgetting you hang out with a lot of people older than you."

"Two to three years isn't that much older."

"It is when you're sixteen and the girl of your dreams is eighteen." The younger teen smirked. "Two years in your case is all it takes to make a relationship illegal."

"I thought you were on my side." Dick shook his head, glaring in frustration. Little traitor.

"Just pointing it out. But really, I've been wondering," he looked over his brother, seriously thinking about it, "if you really don't like where this is going with Dad, why don't you just run away? You are sixteen and can get a job. And then there's your trust fund. And I'm sure Haly's Circus would love to get you back. You have a place to run to if you ever want it. So why haven't you?"

For a long moment the older teen looked over him, seemingly thinking about it. Then he smiled. "Why would I? Bruce really is a pain, but he still took me in when no one else would. And it hasn't been all bad you know. If it were just the two of us, I might have run, but it isn't. It's you, Tim, Cass, and Dami. And Alfred. I might have been able to run if it were just one other, convincing myself they'd replace me, but all you guys look up to me. And I've kinda gotten into the habit of being the big brother here."

He looked away, thoughtful. "I may have some place to run to, but I can't run. I won't run away from my family. I don't want to lose anyone ever again, and I'm not gonna make you lose me either. You're stuck with me Jaybird."

Dick gave Jason a grin, ruffling his hair fondly. He playfully bat his hand away, smiling a bit more comfortably. "Knock it off."

"Not in a million years. Come here!" Without another warning, the acrobat lunged at him, wrestling him down on his bed to deliver the worst torture known to man: affectionate tickling. Soon insane laughing and cackling could be heard through the door and down the hallways. One fretting father looked to the sound of it and gave a slightly relieved sigh. It was good to hear that laugh, from both of them. He'd gone too long without it ringing through the halls. Maybe one day he'd find a way to bring it back out again on his own, to mend what he had broken. Teenagers could be very difficult, but their laughter wasn't too far away from when they were children.

* * *

A/N: see? I figure if Dick had a sibling from the beginning he wouldn't run for their sake. Many and he definitely wouldn't. He's too much of a big brother to run away from them. Since Jay's 13, he's also starting to see that Dad isn't perfect. well, he never had that illusion, but he's now being more vocal about it. Two boys wrestling on a bed... I thought it was just too much fun. I think it's official, Jay's (mostly) over Joker.

Well I think this is it for the set up. Next will be 'Sacrifice'! Thank you for your patience.


	49. Sacrifice-1-Ties That Bind

Here it is! Sacrifice has started! Once the extended version is ready, it'll be on Teen Titans in the Cartoon section. I'll try to update this daily until it's done. It's longer than I anticipated, but it's still made of awesome. Enjoy! And to all those who offered to Beta, thanks! Keep reading and I hope I can get everyone's help in one day. ^^V

Dick-16/17 Jason-13 Cass-11/12 Tim-9 Damian-3

* * *

**Sacrifice**

_1 – Ties That Bind_

Snow stopped falling outside the manor, giving the grounds and the house a peaceful feeling if someone looked at it from the outside. But if anyone bothered to look within for the past few months, they'd know differently. An uneasy truce currently hung over the Wayne family. Had for nearly the entire season.

Maybe it was a truce. Maybe it was just someone giving another the cold shoulder. It was hard for Alfred and the rest to tell.

"Dick…" Damian tried, knocking on his big brother's door for probably the tenth time that afternoon. "You home?"

There was some shifting around of heavy objects before the actual wooden structure shifted at all. The oldest child in the building finally opened his door, trying to fix his hair at the same time. "Hey Dami. Your daddy around?"

He looked over and around the toddler, seeing if the coast was clear. The youngest shook his head emphatically. "No. Daddy an' Awfred in kitten. Wanna pway wif me?"

Dick gave a half smirk, slightly wanting to do just that. But… "Sorry Dami. I've gotta go out and get Christmas presents."

"Wah?"

He pulled on his jacket before leaving his bedroom, looking it over briefly before nodding. "I gotta go out and be Santa for a few hours."

"Santa?!" At this the kid's eyes lit up like Christmas lights. He'd been excited for this time of year ever since he started playing the holiday music. Damian really liked the holidays, which wasn't surprising since he was just three. "You Santa?!"

Dick laughed, crouching down and ruffling his little brother's hair affectionately. "Nah, I just work for him sometimes. Uncle Clark does too. And I think so does Barry and Alfred."

"Reawy?!" He was getting really excited now.

"Think so." The teen gave his younger brother a strong hug. It was hard to be mad at anyone when his cute little face was looking up at him like that. But the fact that it was also Bruce's face as a child still caused him a little pain. That guy just wouldn't… "You know I love you right?"

"I wove you too." Damian hugged him back, best his little arms could at least.

"Good." He looked into his brother's eyes, some sadness in his eyes. "Never forget that. No matter what I say or do or what happens between me and your daddy, I'll always love you. You and Tim and Jason and Cass. And Alfred. I'll always love you guys."

"I know." The toddler smiled merrily. It was hard to believe a year and a half ago this kid would hide in his dad's arms over smiling and laughing at them. "You wove Daddy too."

This stung the young man a bit. He looked away for a moment before standing and admitting anything. "Sometimes. But that guy…"

He shook his head. He was still mad at him for what happened over Halloween and the arguments from before it. So far he managed to avoid the man and talking to him in general, but with the holiday season coming to its peak, it was becoming harder to enjoy himself and avoid him. He really didn't want to argue with Bruce again. He didn't like hiding in his room and not playing with the others either. He really had to face the man again, and soon. This uneasy standstill between them was hurting their family bit by bit.

Selina had sensed the tension and took off for the Hawaii after he ditched Thanksgiving at a friend's house. She was the lucky one who could stay out of the crossfire. The League hadn't caught much of it either because they only dealt with Bruce unless it was some kind of family emergency. The other three and Alfred though, they were feeling like they had to be on eggshells around them. Everyone kept their mouths shut when both were in the room, or in Jason's case he'd change the subject to something everyone could possibly agree on. On their own, Jason had confronted both of them about the issue, just like Alfred had, but neither could get the two to reconcile.

What were they fighting over again? Oh yeah, how Bruce was being an overprotective, mother hen who wouldn't cut the umbilical cord already and let Dick live his own life!

Course Dick had been reckless at Halloween and maybe could have gotten shot, and Jason and Cass hurt, but he didn't. They had saved lives that night, including Bruce and Selina's second identities. They brought down about a dozen gunmen and saved near a hundred lives! But did that matter to Bruce? Was he proud of their efforts? No, not really. All he saw was reckless endangerment and it scared him to the point that he was furious at Dick (not Jason or Cass, he blamed Dick alone for the fiasco).

Oh, and the man wouldn't let him date Barbara Gordon, the Commissioner's daughter, even though she had a clean background and he was sixteen. Sheesh… Even uptight Mormon kids were allowed to date then.

The teen kneed his forehead from the oncoming headache that accompanied his many thoughts about those fights. He had to get Bruce to listen to him. He wasn't eight years old anymore! He didn't need saving every second of the day and he hadn't had a nightmare like before in years. Bruce had four others to worry about. Couldn't he give the senior a break? How was he expected to go to prom without a date anyway? He'd done everything right by Bruce up until then. And what he did was exactly what Batman used to do all the time.

Maybe that was it. The man was so focused on making sure his family didn't get hurt from the criminal community that he forgot what it was like to actually be part of the crime fighting one. Forgot what it was like to be in the thick of it. When was the last time he wore the cowl again? He knew he wore it when he took Damian away from his ex-demon-princess-fiancé. And he hadn't fought much, had he?

"Dick?" Damian's small curious voice brought him out of his thoughts. Even though the three year old hadn't quite picked up what was happening around him, he was still aware of how different people felt. Kids that age were like that.

So his brother just smiled at him, trying to push everything back. "I'm okay. Hey, how about we find the others? I'm sure we can get them to play with you."

"Okay!" The toddler dashed forward, heading to where he last saw the other three.

Jason and Tim were busy playing on the Wii. Tim had hacked the system and combined it with a game making program to make a more realistic baseball game for them to play. The two of them were absorbed in the game that they barely heard the duo coming in.

"Dude, that's a foul."

"No, that's a bad pitch!"

Jason grinned at Tim next to him. "My pitch was perfect. You just royally suck at this."

The little genius glared daggers at the white locked trouble maker next to him. "You want to see my batting? Let's take this to the field!"

"Uh, guys?" Dick inclined his head over to Damian at his knees. "Mind playing with him? I've gotta get some Christmas presents."

"Seriously?" Tim whined. He didn't like babysitting, let alone 'prince' Damian. Everyone treated him like he was royalty. Well, Jason didn't, but he treated everyone the same unless they tried to beat him up or badmouthed any of them. He was pretty fair over all. Oh, and Cass treated him like everyone else too, just with a little more caution. Dick though, he always looked after the youngest. Tim missed being the youngest.

"Why now?" Jason asked curiously. "I mean, Christmas is in four days. What's taken you so long?"

"Finals." He grinned at himself. Dick was nearly done with his senior year, just one semester left! Then he could go anywhere! Sure he'd be a minor for another year or so, but really, being out of high school was a huge accomplishment. Even Bruce would have to acknowledge he wasn't a kid after next term. "Plus a few of them were special orders. Just have to pick them up and now's the best time."

"You'll be back for dinner though right?" Tim asked, coming closer. He missed having Dick at dinner with them. And no one liked how much Jason tried to fill in the silence at the table when he wasn't there. Even Jason.

The oldest looked away awkwardly for a moment. He really did have to stop hiding from Bruce. He had to talk to him. Christmas was about family after all. He should make it a good one, for the others if no one else. So that meant fixing, or at least trying to fix, what was wrong between the two of them. "Yeah," he murmured. "I'll be back for Alfred's cooking. Just play with Dami for a bit okay?"

"Alright alright." Jason came up to the little guy and picked him up, making the kid laughed loudly. Really, the tyke was so quiet last year and now he hardly shut up. The younger teen looked at the elder, smirking. "My present better be good Dickybird."

"Pft. Of course it is Jaybird!" Dick grinned. "This is me we're talking about!"

The boys all laughed at the comment before saying bye to him and letting him move on. Dick kept going through the house, careful not to make any noise as he made it past the kitchen and towards the garage. Cass spotted him from her favorite reading spot in the parlor but said nothing as always. Every once in a while, Dick loved how quiet she was. Once in the garage of used cars (the collector cars were in the one further from the road), he spotted the vehicle he wanted: his motorcycle.

"Hello Shirley." He knelt next to his bike, making sure all the chains and tractions were right. Couldn't risk too much with this weather; it'd only put Bruce in a more foul mood towards him. Paranoid, overprotective, mother hen. Well the plus side of that was he made sure the winter tires were put on the bike. That'd make this a lot easier. He double checked the saddle bags and his helmet before being satisfied with it and getting mentally prepared to go.

"You should take the car."

Dick froze at the voice. He'd been trying to avoid it for nearly two months. Really, he didn't want another argument. Their conversations ever since were all snippy short hot tempered ones. And both knew they were sick of them. He looked over to Bruce at the garage's doorway, watching him expressionlessly. "Better traction and stability."

"It's just gonna be me and the presents are small." The teen zipped up his jacket tight before working on his gloves. Were they always this small and slippery? "Besides, it's easier to park and with gas prices being the way they are, this'll save a lot of money."

The man nodded, grunting slightly. It made the boy blink. Did he just agree? With him? Even though both of them knew the risks? Dick fought to hide his shock as he put his helmet on. "I'll be back before dinner."

"We really need to talk." Bruce seemed a little nervous, anxious even. His hands were fiddling with his coat's lining, a sign to the teenager there was something he really wanted to talk to him about but was unsure how to start.

Dick watched him for a good minute in silence. He hadn't seen Bruce like this since he was his ward and the man was trying to bring up adoption. It was just after Jason joined them and he could still remember that day perfectly. One of the best days of his life. Seeing that look now, some hope and relief started to come to his chest. Maybe they could work things out at last. Bruce had given him space lately after all.

"After dinner. I promise." He gave the man a weak smile, slightly apologetic. "I've got a few errands to run now or I'll miss my golden opportunity."

"Understood." Bruce pressed the button opening the garage door, letting him continue on his own. There was some worry in his eyes as Dick revved up the motor. "Be careful on the turns. No unnecessary risks."

"Where's the fun in that?" He gave the exasperated man a quick grin before escaping his presence entirely. Yeah, he'd be careful, but there was no way he'd confirm that with the old man. He deserved to sweat a little more. And there wasn't a blizzard scheduled in Gotham for another couple weeks. He'd be fine.

Bruce watched him from a distance, still worried for the teen. Before that Halloween night, he was far more compliant, but even before then the teen's rebellious phase started, and it worried him. Always worried him. Bruce worried. It was just how he was, regardless of how careful he knew the kids could be. Parents worried.

'_You're not my father Bruce! Stop telling me what to do!_'

Those words still ate at him. Ate away at every cheery memory he had of Dick. He wasn't his father, technically. But for about half the kid's life, he felt like he was. In his heart, Dick was his first born, the spark that brought warmth back into his life. The others would have had a nearly impossible time if he hadn't come around first. They may not even be with him right then. He may not be John Grayson, but Dick turned Bruce into a father.

And as a father, he had to make it up to him.

Slowly he took out an envelope from his coat pocket containing Dick's Christmas present. It was the best he could come up with and it took a couple weeks to get it together. He was thinking of giving it to him early, let him chose when to use it. Maybe it'd make things easier between them. He was hoping it would. He missed the hyper, affectionate eight year old he first took in.

* * *

Dick felt he could breathe a little easier once he was outside view of the manor, but his stomach still twisted in knots. It wasn't the Christmas presents he was thinking about right then. Heck, it wasn't even the talk he promised Bruce they'd finally have that night.

It was that text. The one that woke him from his nap before Damian's knocking.

_I know your family's secret. Unless you want the underworld to know the truth, come to warehouse S14D3 on the southwest side of Gotham. Come alone. Tell no one. 4pm. Your sister's reading '_Great Expectations_'. Fulfill mine._

Dick gripped the handles tighter as he thought about it. He gave Cass that book himself and she started it just yesterday. Whoever sent him that text had eyes in the manor. It was likely they knew about the League. About Batman. Maybe even about Cass and Damian's origins. If the criminals of Gotham had even a little bit of that information…

"Okay ugly," he murmured in his helmet. "Who are you?"

* * *

A/N: X3 so the plot begins. Now, I don't ride a motorcycle (yet) and I live in a place without snow, so I don't know anything about people doing this in the New York/New Jersey area. Dude, did they even announce a state where Gotham is? =/ Oh well. That envelope... It was going to be resolved at the end, but it'll be taken care of in the extended version due to the document now equaling about 150 pages... yeah... *looks away* see ya tomorrow!

FYI, I have a poll on my profile page that I want everyone reading guest or no to do. It's just a brief survey for my curiosity only.


	50. Sacrifice-2-Blackmail

Congratulations to all those who figured out who's behind it all! Now watch it unfold! To all those who took a look at that poll, I'm sorry! Apparently only FF members can answer it. So I'm taking it down. Thanks for looking!

Dick-16/17 Jason-13 Cass-11/12 Tim-9 Damian-3

* * *

**Sacrifice**

_2 – Blackmail_

Dick pulled up next to the warehouse dubiously. He had a devil of a time finding the place, as Alfred would put it. He had to ask a security guard at one of the neighboring houses where to start looking. The whole district was a cellphone dead zone for some reason (ruining his GPS), a very odd occurrence in Gotham, and one that didn't bode well for the young acrobat. The temptation to turn on the sonic signaling device in his watch was getting stronger with each passing moment. He'd been lured out for kidnappings before and he was in no mood for another one.

Everything about this screamed trap to him.

Yet he felt like he didn't have a choice but to walk into it.

As he turned off his motorcycle and removed his helmet, he looked around. No people as far as the eye could see. There was a car though. A nice one. Bruce had one like it and Alfred made them use it every once in a while. He took a step towards it when his phone went off again, jerking his thoughts away from it. Wasn't this a dead zone?

He took it out and found a text waiting for him, no bars. How did he get a text without any signal? Dick tried to remember if there was some kind of development in this field in regards to this (he overheard a lot of tech-talk between Wayne Enterprises and the Justice League, plus Tim loved talking about the latest and greatest developments) as he read it.

_Not yet Richard. Come inside. You must be cold._

The teen glared at the message for a moment before looking for the camera(s) the creep must be using to spy on him. Took a minute but he spotted it, barely. It was well hidden in the exit sign above a nearby door. That had to be his invitation inside, where his freaky mystery stalker was waiting to grab him and force him into that car.

As he opened the door to go inside, he rethought that. Why would his supposed kidnapper lure him indoors first instead of just dragging him into the car? Did he want to gas him first inside the building? Curiosity buzzed inside him, awaking the detective being cultivated by Bruce and the League since he was a kid. He never could resist a mystery. Half the fun of Christmas at the manor was figuring out what everyone got for each other. They had to guess before opening their packages Christmas morning, family tradition.

He pushed these thoughts aside as he walked carefully into the warehouse. He'd been in a number of these buildings in the past, and never was it a good experience. Bad things happened in these places when no one was working or looking. This one was dark and cluttered with crates, almost like a maze. His eyes narrowed suspiciously. This could not be good.

"You have courage."

Dick jerked at the voice, then again as the door behind him slammed and bolted shut. He didn't have to test it to know there was no way out of this one. He saw the lock earlier. Electromagnetics. Deadbolt. Picking the lock or forcing it would be useless unless you had super strength.

"Good. You're going to need it." The silky voice above and around the teen made his skin crawl. It was almost exactly how he imagined Luthor's voice was when he was convincing congress to side with him on some special project, that hid his real goals to use it to destroy Superman. Cold, shrewd, smooth. He was patronizing him, whoever this was. He met Luthor, and that was not his voice.

"Who are you?!" Dick demanded, balling his hands into fists. He really didn't want to deal with this. He made promises, and he intended to keep them.

"Patience. We'll meet very shortly Richard." The guy was laughing at him behind that calm voice of his. Dick had heard that tone from other high class creeps who thought he was a stupid circus brat. "But first, you must find me. There's a room at the center of this maze. Make it there in the next fifteen minutes and you might be able to save her."

"Her?" His blood ran cold. Save her? The way this man talked, he couldn't tell if he'd hurt someone just to taunt him, but he couldn't risk it. He risked it once before, with Two-Face. That didn't end well.

"Tick tock."

He didn't waste a second more. At first he tried solving the maze (he was good with puzzles, learned that on the road with the circus) but after five minutes of twist, turns and annoying obstacles, he realized it would take too long, especially at this angle. So he did what he did best, thought out of the box. Quickly Dick climbed up one of the walls of crates and took another look around from the top. Most of the place was in shadow, but he saw a light near the far end of the place, and a wide open area. "Alright. Now to get there."

The teen sprinted across the crate walls towards the light. Several times he jumped gaps between them, closing in rapidly on his destination. Once or twice he had to grab a hanging lamp and perform flips to make the jump, but none of it was difficult for him. He kept his acrobatic skills up at the manor, even taught his siblings how to use a trapeze. Anything to get under Bruce's skin and prove rule 9 wasn't just for him.

Before the fifteen minutes were up, Dick landed near the end of the maze where some old lady was laying on her side on the ground. He darted straight towards her, eager to see if she was alright, but ran head long into a force field.

"Aurg!" The boy was thrown backwards, towards the floor. Instinctively he slapped the ground to break his fall and turned it into a roll, getting right back onto his feet. He glared at the invisible barrier, trying to figure out what kind it was and how to get around it, but his thoughts were cut short when he heard clapping.

"Very well done Richard. You truly are exceeding my expectations."

Dick jerked his gaze to the source of that voice, his eyes widening a fraction as the man came forward from the shadows behind the field. He'd seen that uniform before, and another variation of that mask. It was in the League's 'Killers At Large' list. Only one man would dare wear orange, silver and black like that. Others who tried would be killed by the original.

Deathstroke the Terminator. Slade Wilson.

"I wasn't trying to impress you." The teen put up the best front he could. Inside he was beginning to panic. As good as Dick was, going head to head with one of the most dangerous men on the planet was not on his bucket list.

He could hear the man smiling behind that metal mask. "I look forward then to when you will."

"Who are you?!" Okay, Dick knew who this guy was thanks to Bruce's paranoia and random lists on his computer, but pampered rich kids, even from the circus, weren't supposed to know who the world's greatest tactician was. And if he was going to protect the League or his family, he'd have to pretend he didn't know. Good thing Alfred taught him how to act.

"I go by many names." Looked like the man bought it. "Slade these days, but you'll be calling me Master."

This made the teen blink. What? "Whoa, hold the phone there." He eased a little out of a fighting stance, confused to high heaven and back. "Master? What? You some evil timelord or something? Which regeneration is this? I know the Doctor has no fashion sense until nine but seriously… Master?"

"Hm. Humor. Are you attempting to distract me? It won't work."

"No seriously, Master? What are you smoking?" Dick gave him an incredulous looks. They said he was dangerous, not insane. "'Cause there's no way I'd call you 'Master' Sadie."

"Slade," the man repeated, "and you will."

"Really?" The teen folded his arms, a mocking smirk growing on his face. Okay, this guy was nuts. Dangerous, but nuts. "And just why is that? 'Cause you know some 'secret'?"

"Hm. No. You'll be telling me that secret yourself in time." There was a hint of mocking humor in the man's voice. He knew something

"So you dragged me down here for nothing?" He rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he took in the room again. He had to find a way to save the lady and get them out of there. But with one of the deadliest assassins there with them, it wasn't going to happen until the other guy dropped his guard. And what better way to do that than make the guy believe he was just another teenager?

"No. I brought you here to make you my apprentice."

Dick's hands dropped to his sides in genuine shock, gaping at the insane man. He was not expecting that. "What?"

"For some time now I've been searching for an apprentice, someone to follow in my footsteps. And Richard, I've chosen you. Congratulations."

A dark feeling started to swell in the teen's chest, but he wouldn't let it win. The guy's voice told him he thought he was in control, certain of his own importance and victory. Not happening. "No. No way would I ever work for you!"

Rage built inside him, nearly exploding. Only the knowledge of who this guy really was and the force field between them stopped him from trying to pummel the guy. His apprentice? The only person he ever considered being an apprentice, or a protégé, to was Batman; and that option died out when he tried to convince Bruce eight years ago to stay in the game. This guy, Slade, he was everything Bruce hated. Everything Dick hated. There was no way he'd ever join him.

"Really?" The tone in the man's voice chilled Dick to the core. The man pressed a button on a cellphone, making holographic viz screens appear all around them. The technology was still being experimented on outside Wayne Tech's R&D/League issued items. How did he get his hands on…

All color in his face dropped to his feet at a moment's notice. There were two categories for the images he was seeing. One was something from a biology textbook, the molecular level pictures of blood cells. Attached to roaming healthy red blood cells were some kind of probes.

If that wasn't enough to creep him out, the images of his family right then and there inside the manor were. It was the same clothes as he saw them wearing just an hour ago. Cass was still reading her book while listening to her iPod in her favorite spot. Tim and Jason had moved into the gym, having rigged up a basketball hoop and trying to make free throws without arousing suspicion. Bruce and Damian were reading 'The Little Engine That Could' in the study while Alfred was preparing dinner in the kitchen. Nearly everyone was matched up with the blood/probe images, all but the two adults.

"Nano-scopic probes." The man had to be smiling behind that mask. "For the past month I've targeted each and every one of your siblings, subtly injecting them with them. You've seen the signs. A round rash about the size of a penny appeared somewhere on each of their bodies. Right now they're harmless, undetectable even. But with a push of a button," he showed the teen a handheld detonator attached to his wrist guard, "my probes will destroy your 'family' from the inside, out."

Short on breath for a moment, Dick just gaped at the screens. This couldn't be real. Nano-technology was still being experimented on. Ray Palmer was getting there, much faster now that Bruce was backing him, but hadn't heard if he reached this level yet. How could this guy even hope to have this kind of power? "You're bluffing! No one can do that! Everyone knows this is pure Star Trek! I bet those are just—"

"You need proof?" The man grinned. "Alright."

Slade knelt next to the lady on the floor and lifted her sleeve, exposing a rash about the size of a penny. Dick had seen rashes like that on his siblings recently, but they were easily explained away. They meant nothing. But then the assassin clicked a button on the side of the bigger detonator. The woman jolted suddenly, her skin turning a sickening shade of orange after a few seconds, spreading from the rash, and she cried out in pain as she jolted here and there.

Dick watched horrified for a moment, panic filling him, before screaming, "STOP IT! LEAVE HER ALONE!"

"Have I proven my power Richard?" The man seemed pleased. But all Dick could hear and see was the woman in agony. Flashes of the worst day of his life flew across his mind, making him experience again the first time he saw death. The worst way to learn about it. Horrified, he couldn't look away and just kept begging as tears started in his eyes.

"PLEASE! LEAVE HER ALONE! STOP IT! LET HER GO!"

"A truly horrific way to die," Slade concluded, tapping the button again. The orange tinged died away and the lady visibly relaxed, though she still shook. The agony on her face was more than the teenager could bear. Why did he have to hurt her like that? "That is the fate your precious siblings will have to face if you try to defy me.

"If you join me, if you swear to serve me, if you never speak to your 'family' again, I will allow them to live. But, if you disobey, even the smallest of requests, I will annihilate them Richard. And I'll make you watch."

The dark and smooth tone of the man's voice only drove Dick even further into himself as he gaped at the lady. The way she twitched, how much pain she was in, it was all engrained into his memory. Hearing the threat, he could almost see his siblings in such a state. He could hear something breaking inside him.

"So," the assassin proposed, as if he had a choice, "do we have a deal?"

He looked from the barely breathing woman to the screens surrounding them. His family. Four screens of probe infested blood. Slade infected four innocents. Damian, Cass, Tim, Jason… all of them would be hurt or killed because of him.

"Why?" Tears threatened to come out as he asked in a broken voice. The hollow feeling in his chest grew with each second. "Why me? Why not someone else? Someone who admires you?"

Slade smirked, seemingly pleased. He tapped the phone again. One screen changed to a video link. It was of him, on Halloween. The night he dressed up as a make-believe hero and took down those dozen men nearly on his own. Cass and Jason helped, but he was the showman, the lead act. And he was showing off.

"Your abilities and natural instincts are quite evident here. As soon as I saw this, I had to see you for myself. You've passed all my tests these past two months, proven your abilities time and time again. All those would-be kidnappers you took own, evading photographers, even breaking into your own home so no one caught you sneaking out at night." Other images appeared on the screen, reminding Dick of what had occurred the past couple months. He had a feeling someone was watching him that whole time. Now he knew who. He really did have a stalker. "Time and time again you've impressed me. And now it's time to choose. Serve me, or watch them die."

Dick watched his family on the monitors for a minute longer before making a sound. Jason and Tim were having so much fun with their game, they didn't care if someone was watching them. Cassandra was entirely absorbed in her book, ignorant of everything outside it. Alfred bustled about like normal, nothing the matter. Bruce and Damian just finished their book and the kid was clambering all over his dad. Bruce was laughing fondly, far more at ease now than when he first met him. Just beyond him was a painting of his parents and photographs of all those who died in the children's lives. He could make out the one of his parents.

What would they do? In this situation, what would his parents, their parents, all of their loved ones, do? What would…

Slowly Dick closed his eyes, grieved by the only conclusion. His head dropped and all fight left him. "What do you want me to do… Master."

* * *

A/N: X3 yes, it's Slade. and as a warning, I'm not good with villains. There's a reason most of my stories involve family fluff or cop-out thugs for bad guys. I royally suck with them. I always ask one of my friends, who's awesome with them, to tell me what so-and-so would do (usually Joker to tell the truth, and Slade lately). I've done Slade probably twice already, no, three times, and in one someone complained that I got him all wrong once. So if Slade's OOC, you've been warned.

So, now Dick's in trouble and so's his family. This is kinda what happens when Bruce puts his guard down. He's been so safe inside his own home for so long, that he wasn't near as paranoid as he used to be. Same with the kiddos. Clearly Slade's seen that and taken advantage. I guarantee it won't work twice. =]

Well, see ya tomorrow! ^^V


	51. Sacrifice-3-Rule 4

Glad people like how I'm doing Slade so far! Well, here we're going to have another character come in who hardly gets used, here or elsewhere. =P and the title, anyone familiar with the rules knows what that's about. Enjoy!

Dick-16/17 Jason-13 Cass-11/12 Tim-9 Damian-3

* * *

**Sacrifice**

_3 – Rule 4_

He didn't see the man walk up to him. He didn't hear the force field drop. He didn't really care to look up anymore. The screens showing his family may or may not be there anymore, but it didn't matter. Richard Grayson wasn't really there anymore. Just his body, for whatever this madman had in store for him.

"Change."

An orange and black uniform was handed over to Dick, along with gloves, boots, and underwear. He took it numbly, not daring to look up. He couldn't trust his emotions right then. His freedom handed over to an assassin that wanted to make him like him, or take his family's lives. Those were his choices. No one would want to see anything after having to make that choice.

"Leave everything on you here. Everything." Slade walked a little ways off, fingering a few extra devices. He only looked over to the sullen boy once before commenting again. "Don't act so sad Richard. I know it looks bad now, but believe me, you'll grow to like it. Now change. Can't have Wayne finding you now can we?"

The teen bit his lip and started to strip. He didn't like the idea of selling himself to this man. Did being his apprentice mean he'd be his boy-toy too? Sick little… He had a long shirt on so he managed to change pants without showing anything. Moving to his shirt and undershirt, he hesitated when he came to his watch. A large leather binding and the most updated face-watch on the planet. It also doubled as a tracker, emergency signal and a light. There were some medicines also tucked along the edges, condensed forms of anti-toxins and the like for emergency use. Bruce was very paranoid. Removing that was to go off the grid entirely. So he took it off, laying it on top of his pile of folded clothes and shoes (habit from Alfred). It went nicely with his cellphone.

The last thing he owned on him was the one thing he didn't ever want to leave behind. When he first came to Wayne Manor, Bruce gave him a perfectly made chain, one that wouldn't break easily or rust. He had Dick put his parents' wedding bands on it. Wore it ever since, no matter what. Bruce had one just like it since his parents' murder. Jason and Tim had their parents' rings as well. They never took them off. It was like keeping their love around them, always; a reminder of where they came from as individuals. A good reminder.

"I'm waiting apprentice."

Dick chanced a look at the monitors again, spotting Bruce still in the study with Damian. They were picking out another book. He could still see his parents' picture. Slowly he took a breath then worked the chain over his head, careful not to break it. Once off, he carefully arranged the chain and rings on top of the pile. He didn't want to let go of them but he had no choice. As soon as his hands were off those cool pieces of metal, he rapidly finished putting on Slade's uniform for him, walking around the neat stack that once belonged to him. He didn't want to see what he had to give up for others.

The assassin looked him over once redressed, circling him slightly. The acrobat knew this kind of inspection; he went through it at school all the time by gripey teachers and parents. They loved to inspect him then put him down.

"Hmm…." Slade gripped his chin slightly, forcing the teen to look at him listlessly. There must have been something wrong about him in the man's eyes. He let go of his chin and turned towards an opening in the crates. "Come. We have a long journey ahead of us."

Dick nodded and started following, looking once back over to the woman still cowering in the floor. "Do not mind her apprentice. She's served her purpose, and now she is free."

This brought some relief to the teen, but not enough for him to smile. Silently he followed after his master, not at all happy by the situation he was now in, and nearly ran into an aging gentleman waiting for them at another entrance. The old guy took him back for a moment. He seemed to act a lot like Alfred. Why was he with Slade Wilson?

"I see everything has gone well sir?" He seemed to eye Dick for a moment, sizing him up before taking a long look at his face. Something seemed to change in his expression when he did that, causing him to swiftly turnabout and head towards the car outside.

"Perfectly Wintergreen."

"Sir, I'd advise a mask in this young man's case." He cast another look in the teen's direction. "His eyes are…"

"I'm perfectly aware of the effect his eyes have on people." Slade looked back to Dick who was becoming confused. Miserable, but confused. People said he had very emotional eyes before, and an unusual shade of blue, but did it really had an effect on people? "He'll have something to take care of that soon enough. Inside the car apprentice."

Dick nodded dumbly, sliding in like he did hundreds of times with the car at home. Slade followed suit, shutting the door behind him firmly. Wintergreen took the front, playing chauffer. Really, was this guy trying to imitate Alfred? Well he didn't have the accent.

As the motor started up, Slade looked at the pouty, angst filled boy who chose silence now that he was beaten. Dick actually had lots to say. He was just certain that if he said any of it, someone would die. So to save lives, and his breath, he folded his arms and glared out the window to see time and traffic slip by.

"Don't be so upset Richard," the mercenary started. "This really is all for your benefit."

"Hmph." Benefit? Do or die wasn't benefit. It was blackmail.

"You really will learn to love what I teach you, you'll see."

"Right." Love what he teaches? Dick was planning on being a cop after high school, maybe a Gotham detective. This guy was pretty much blowing that plan out of the water, along with hundreds of others. How was he supposed to honor his parents' memories now?

"In time, you may even see me as a father to you."

"I already have a father." His eyes narrowed in self-loathing as he thought of this. "And you're nothing like him."

* * *

"Dinner is served Master Bruce."

Alfred's message was a welcomed intrusion on the CEO's thoughts. He was still wondering how to talk to his eldest about things. How to start really. Was it always this hard to talk the boy? Seriously? "Of course Alfred. Damian."

The toddler flipping carelessly through his old books looked up to him from the floor, grinning proudly. He was pretending he was a great scholar at the moment. Well that ended as soon as he took a whiff of the air. Before either of the men could blink the kid was out the door and running towards the meal waiting for them. Seeing his energy, both of them couldn't help but to laugh. It was always good to see the happiness on little children's faces.

"I haven't heard the garage door opening," Bruce started, walking next to the butler. "Has Dick returned home yet?"

Alfred shook his head. "I'm afraid not sir. Not that I've seen at the least."

"Hmmm…." The man took out his cellphone and started bringing up a hidden program before stopping himself.

'_You just don't trust me to do it alone! I'm not a little kid anymore!_'

Bruce took a deep breath before putting the phone away. Dick was just late. He didn't need to check up on him all the time. Traffic backed up and became dangerous this time of year. He was just being delayed. That was all.

He took another deep breath before joining the rest of his children in the kitchen where dinner would be served at the smaller table they used on a daily basis. Cassandra was already there, scratching the back of her neck as she waited. Alfred was retrieving Jason and Tim at the moment. Damian tugged on his father's hand, trying to make dinner come sooner in his own way.

"Sit wif me!"

The father smiled warmly at his son and obeyed the order. He wasn't always unreasonable with his kids. Shortly after settling down in his seat, both missing boys were racing through the doorway, laughing and ignoring Alfred's shouts after them to behave. Their dad gave them a chiding glare but only heard laughs from the two. Really, Jason's mischievous tendencies were rubbing off on Tim. The second youngest was even starting his own sense of style to try and prove his own independence, wearing a black hoodie with cat ears and large yellow tinted goggles whenever he didn't have to dress formally. As if Jason's leather biker jackets weren't worrying enough, now Tim was imitating Selina's other persona. At least Cass and Dick weren't trying to look like criminals even the slightest bit.

Tim took a look around, a bit disappointed despite the race he had down there. "Where's Dick? He promised he'd be here tonight."

"Still out," Bruce answered. "He'll turn up soon. He doesn't break his promises."

"Yeah, unlike certain other people…" Jason received a quick glare, making him grin impishly as he took his favorite seat. "Did I say who?"

"It was implied." He gave a heavy sigh. Jason was never going to let him forget how much he screwed up back when he was little and missed a few parent-teacher conferences. Even missed a fieldtrip back then. Everyone made mistakes and he hadn't had children for very long then either. Dick forgave his mistakes back then… hadn't he?

The teen waved it off as nothing. "Details details. What's for eats?"

Dinner progressed as usual, mostly with Jason trying to fill the empty air with words of some sort. Damian put in what he could here and there, but it was hard to carry on a conversation there without the chatterbox. Dick and he would argue and comment over the table in the past, dragging others into the conversation all the time. The two together really could liven up a meal. But without their favorite older brother, the whole room had difficulty connecting.

Tim took Bruce's cellphone about half way through the meal, without alerting his father (the kid was spending way too much time with Selina), and started working on it silently. It was a good three minutes later when the man noted the confused expression on his face and chanced a peek at what he was doing. "When did you…"

"I wanted to see where Dick was." He looked up at the man, worried. "He's far later than normal. Shouldn't he have called by now or something?"

"Probably on the road." Bruce took his phone back, returning the screen to its sleep mode. "He'll be home soon."

"But…"

At this time his phone conveniently went off. They all looked at it, knowing what that tone meant. Cass and Jason dropped their forks on their plates with a groan. Even Damian pouted when he heard it. The man looked at his phone and sighed slightly to himself. Looked like trouble was starting. "There goes the evening. Sorry."

"We're used to it." They really were. Within seconds their father left the table, rushing into the pantry and the hidden cave entrance there start his work as the League's information hub and hacking accomplice. It'd probably take all night to get whatever had started worked out. Someone was always stirring trouble during the holidays. Why would this year be any different?

Jason looked over to Tim, not really happy with the latest development. "So, where is Dickybird?"

"Didn't get to the program." He looked back to his plate thinking hard. When Dick made promises, he kept them. Even when he was busy or lost track of time, he kept them. So what was keeping him away now? With Dad gone off to work, dinner was pretty much over. It may be a movie or a TV show left before they were sent off to bed. It was getting late and the sun had set a while ago. "He better get home soon."

"He will. You'll see." The teenager gave one of his best smiles, screaming confidence. Inside he was a little worried too, but he was the big brother right then. He had to do everything he could to keep the others happy and calm. That's what Dick did for them all the time.

Way too much work. How did the guy do it?

* * *

"Thanks for the help B."

Bruce rubbed his eyes tiredly, thinking it might be a good idea to check in with an eye doctor in the next few weeks. Looking at all these screens here and at his day job had to be killing his eyes. How did Alfred go all these years without glasses? He grunted to the man on the other end. "Try to keep Sinestro off Earth Jordon. I missed out on dessert."

"How was I supposed to know he had some kind of secret base here?"

He shook his head before cutting the connection. Hal Jordon had managed to get himself caught by a former green lantern on an old military base, powerless and ready to be dissected. He barely managed to get in contact with Bruce via stray cellphone. When the man bothered to memorize his number he'd never know, but this time the guy thought ahead, saving his life. With Bruce's help, Hal retrieved his power ring, freed several human prisoners, uncovered an alien takeover plot, and dismantled it all before Sinestro could initiate any real trouble. Really, where would the space cop be without him?

The former Batman stretched his limbs out best he could in his chair before doing his usual checks on his computer. Arkham hadn't reported any breakouts since the last time security was updated (seven months ago, a new record). Blackgate also was being quiet, despite receiving a few new troublesome inmates. The corrupt cops he was listening in on hadn't yet revealed who they were on the take from, nor the locations they were detouring Gordon from yet. And as far as his computer viruses could tell, Luthor wasn't making any move towards him, his allies, or his associates yet. The baldy though was trying to buy politicians for something. It'd be something to look into later.

When he finished his checks and tasks, he looked at the clock, groaning. "After one. Hal…"

He shook his head before pushing away from the computer. Late nights didn't exactly work when he had a three year old to mind and several others who had night terrors randomly throughout the year. Jason may be much better now than he was a year ago, but what Joker did to him still weighed heavily in his subconscious mind. Both Tim and Cass had buried memories that poked their heads from time to time. And despite having dealt with it years ago, Dick even had nightmares about his parents' deaths, and the beating he took from Two-Face. Even Bruce had unwanted visions of his parents' murder and other harsh events. Time made no difference to the subconscious.

The man tiredly walked up the stairs to where his family rested. Because of the call, he couldn't talk to Dick that night. He really needed to talk to him. Not just about the issues they were having (Bruce finally admitted to himself what they were), but also about the future. The envelope with the kid's… no, young man's… gift inside, still rested in his coat pocket. He'd be graduating high school in a few months. Had he thought about where he wanted to go? What he wanted to do? They hadn't talked about it.

As Bruce treaded gently down the hallway actually holding people in it, he stopped to listen at each door. He smiled slightly at the sound of breathing behind most of them, rolling his eyes at the slight buzz from someone's computer screen being left on. Jason must have been watching something online before falling asleep. He did that once in a while. The father stopped in front of Dick's door for a moment and listened. Not a sound came through the door.

For a moment his breath halted. Not a sound. Something was always coming through that door. Screams, giggles, murmuring, soft music, a movie caught on replay, something! Unless it was empty, that room was never quiet. Never.

He quietly placed his hand on the doorknob and slowly turned it, trying to ignore the words repeating in his head from old arguments.

'_I'm not a little kid anymore!_' '_I know exactly what I'm doing!_' '_Quit protecting me so much! I can take care of myself!_' '_I'm sixteen years old!_' '_I can make my own decisions!_' '_Stop checking up on me!_' 'Y_ou're acting like a stalker Bruce._' '_I'm fine! Quit panicking already._' '_You're not my father Bruce! Stop telling me what to do!_'

The door opened and he could barely make out the outline of everything in the room. His eyes focused on the bed, making him take a step inside. He couldn't see a person in it. Bruce turned on a low intensity light, just in case Dick was sleeping and he was being paranoid, but with it on he knew he wasn't.

Empty.

"Oh G-d."

Frantic, he searched the room, nearly ripping apart the bed before checking every nook and cranny for any sign of the teen. Everything seemed to be in place, despite the messiness of it. Mentally he reviewed what he knew, his detective skills taking partial control of his actions. He remembered clearly what the boy wore earlier that day, everything from his shirt to his boots. Dick hadn't acted out of the norm either. He made promises to come back. But he hadn't, had he?

Unable to find anything in that room indicating where the acrobat was, Bruce whipped about and searched other likely locations the teen may have ended up around the manor. He hadn't come to the study or cave, he knew that for certain. The quick look inside each of his other children's rooms proved he hadn't accidentally bunked with one of them. He even checked his own bed and found it empty. Then he looked into the gym to see if he was still up and working a sweat at this late hour. No sign of Richard Grayson anywhere he looked in the manor.

Now Bruce was sprinting, not caring if he woke anyone. He even broke one of his own rules and jumped the banister to the ground floor to check one place he should have looked into first: the garage. Panicking, he flipped the switch to see inside it and looked at one spot in particular. It too was empty.

"Master Bruce?"

The man's breathing became erratic as he took out his cell phone and started up a program he should have followed through with hours ago. His wide eyed panicked state worried the butler he inadvertently awoken. "What appears to be the matter?"

"Dick hasn't come back yet." As Alfred's eyes widened next to him, Bruce worked the locator program he had, hoping the teen was on his way home or at a known friend's location. Rule 4 allowed for alone time away from the manor, but everyone was required to say who they were staying with if it were overnight. The real requirement was to keep your cellphone on and your tracer running.

And both of them were on. Just not moving nor anywhere near one of Dick's friends' places. Or anywhere he'd normally be. What was in that district? Last he knew, that part of Gotham was under construction. Then again… The signal bounced to another part of Gotham, then another. "Something's wrong with the tracer program. Scrambling it. Dammit Dick, where are you!"

"Master Bruce," the butler tried, placing a firm hand on his former ward's shoulder to calm him, "may I suggest taking a different approach? Most parents call their children before trying to use a tracer. It may be nothing to worry about. A malfunction."

"Maybe." Bruce turned off the program and brought up Dick's cell number to try a normal approach. All he received on the other end was an automated response saying the number had been disconnected. "Disconnected? That's impossible!"

"Sir?"

"His phone's not picking up." He ended the call and started on a ring of numbers connecting him to Dick's friends' families. Who cared if it was past one in the morning. He was going to find his son.

* * *

A/N: And so the search begins! really, if Slade had done this stunt a week earlier, then there'd be even less suspicion. But because he made promises and didn't get to keep them, they noticed earlier than he expected. And Bruce definitely wouldn't stop searching until he had some kind of answer. Anywho, for those who don't remember, Rule 4 is strictly a 'make it so I can always find you' rule, making it so he's not even allowed to leave planet or go to alternate worlds (wasn't there an actual agreement that they wouldn't go off like that in the comics? Wouldn't surprise me =P). and it just got broken. In the extended version I plan on having nearly every rule applied to the titles. Dickybird is a rule breaker.

And for the eyes thing, it's kinda what makes certain Dick gets a mask. Yes he will have an alias later, but what it is will remain a mystery for a while. *evil laugh* Enjoy! and see ya tomorrow!


	52. Sacrifice-4-Scene of the Crime

Wow. Glad you all are liking this. Now we're gonna have a brief cameo of a few Gothamites and see what else the kids have learned from dear old dad. Enjoy!

Dick-16/17 Jason-13 Cass-11/12 Tim-9 Damian-3

* * *

**Sacrifice**

_4 – Scene of the Crime_

He hadn't slept. The whole night and morning consisted of phone calls, driving, and running around known haunts and safe houses Dick would use. Nothing had turned up. Bruce was at wit's end when he stopped to knock on the Gordon residence's door. Jim was among the first people he called to tell the truth, and the commissioner had offered to lend his taskforce to help find the young man, but Bruce had declined, saying he hadn't exhausted his leads yet.

Now he had.

"Mr. Wayne!" Barbara was the one who opened the door, quite surprised to see him. "What are you doing here?"

"Have you seen Dick?" As always, he cut straight to the chase. Frankly he was tired, cold, and frantic for some sign that the boy was alright. "He didn't come home last night."

"What? You think I have him?" The redhead gave him a shrewd glare. They weren't on the best of terms since he and her father had compared notes about their children. Learning of their budding romantic relationship made both fathers defensive and protective over them. Dick was still forbidden from dating last she heard, and her father's main objection (only one really) was that he was jailbait and she a young adult. Who cared if it was only a two year difference max? Age didn't matter to the couple, but made all the difference in the world to the helicopter parents they dealt with.

Bruce shook his head, his exhaustion starting to show. "No, that's not it."

"Then why are you asking me?" She folded her arms defensively. She didn't note how worn the man was, nor did she care. She really liked Dick and his man kept getting in the way! Even got her dad in on it! "I don't—"

"Barb! Close the door!" Jim Gordon shouted behind her. "You're letting the cold in!"

"Sure thing Dad!"

Before she could slam it on the man's face, Bruce charged forward, grabbing the edge of the door and calling in. "Jim! Have you called in to work this morning?"

"Bruce?" Commissioner James Gordon came out around the corner curiously when he heard the younger man's voice. One look at him was all he needed before he ushered the man inside. "Dear lord, you look terrible! Have you slept at all?"

"No, not a wink." He gladly came in, earning a slight glare from Babs as she shut the door behind him. But the conversation quickly perked her interest and concern. "Dick hasn't checked in with anyone. I can't find his phone or motorcycle—"

"You let him drive that contraption in this weather?" Gordon led him into the kitchen, pouring a hot cup of coffee and handing it to the weary man he set at the table.

"I told him to take a car instead," he shook his worn head, "but he insisted. I've checked friends, old teachers, places he used to visit, everything in Gotham I could think of."

"What about that old circus of his?" Jim offered, trying to help.

"Haly's doing a tour in Europe." Bruce sipped the cup, cringing slightly at the excessively bitter taste that came with it for a moment, but otherwise didn't complain. "Unless Dick's stowed away on a boat, there isn't a chance he went there."

"Wait," Barbara stepped into the conversation, a pit growing in her stomach. "Are you saying Dick's seriously missing? As in gone gone?"

"As far as I can tell." Both hands ran through his hair in desperate frustration, worry continuing to eat at him. "I've been looking all night for any sign of him, any hint of where he disappeared to."

"When did you notice he was missing?" Jim asked, almost as if he were back at the office with a regular worried parent. But this wasn't a normal case. This was Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson. They'd been through so many kidnappings it was embarrassing. Often times they had to save themselves. Dick being missing overnight couldn't bode well.

"He left around four yesterday afternoon. He was supposed to be back for dinner… Promised to be back…" Bruce closed his eyes for a moment, remembering the inquiries, the promises. "I should have checked in on him before going into my office. Work kept me busy until about one and when I checked on everyone…"

"You check on your kids at night?" Barbara asked, slightly upset by the idea.

"When I'm up," he answered frankly.

"It's not that uncommon Barb," her father reminded her. He looked back to Bruce as the young woman turned away guiltily. She really was being too harsh on the guy. "Is that when you started calling around?"

"Yes." The defeated tone in the man's voice struck at both of them. They never heard him quite like this, and they'd known him for years.

"Finally ready to accept some help, and let me do my job?" Bruce had kept others out of it to keep the whole thing quiet. Dick had suffered enough public humiliation to satisfy the tabloids for years. He hadn't even called in his friends at the League yet, hoping it was just a rebellious teenager thing. Maybe that was a mistake.

"Kidnappings aren't part of the major crimes unit are they?" His mind wasn't working right at the moment. He only had one thought on his mind: find Dick.

Gordon shook his head knowingly. Many panicked parents acted the same way. "Commissioners overlook many departments. I just personally get involved with major crimes. I'll put out an amber alert. It'll close down the busses, railways, and airports at the very least."

"May as well close state borders too." Bruce almost winced at the thought of how far he could have gone. "I haven't seen him on over fifteen hours."

Jim nodded in understanding, but continued. "I'll have men back tracking his movements from when he left your house. We should be able to find a lead from there. But we're going to need your complete cooperation, and you have to go home."

He jerked at him in alarm. "I can't just sit still and—"

"I know." The commissioner knew very well that Bruce Wayne couldn't sit still when one of those he cared about was in danger and wait. "But you have four others at home who need you too, and he may come home when you aren't there. Or you may receive a phone call or ransom note. Either way, it's best you go home, and get some rest while you're at it. You're exhausted."

"I'm fine!" He stood on his feet to prove it, glaring at him. "Alfred's at home with the others! I need to—"

His phone started playing a rock tune loudly, silencing him in an instant. As his hand flew to the cell in his pocket, the Gordons exchanged looks. Was that Dick's ring tone?

"Jason?"

Apparently not.

"_Hi Dad._"

"What is it? Is everything alright at home?"

"_With Dickybird missing, would it be?_" There was a pause on his end. "_And I'm not exactly at home. We got Alfred to tell us what happened. Tim got this brilliant idea to try tracking Dick own with his credit and bank cards via your computer, you know, in case he was using them._"

The man listened to his second eldest for a long time, his eyes widening. "That's… logical. Any hits?"

"_Yeah, and lots of red flags._"

Red flags? "How?"

"_According to the records, he was supposedly buying beer in Chinatown. Coffee around there too._"

Donning came to his eyes. "Someone stole his wallet."

"Stole whose wallet?" Jim was on his feet, wishing the conversation was on speaker. "Is he talking about Dick?"

Bruce held up a finger to silence him, alarm coming to his face. Jason continued, not hearing the commissioner on the other end. "_Yeah, we figured that out too. So we tracked the guy who took it down and—_"

Alarm and worry only grew on the man's face. "What do you mean we? Tracked who down? Jason, where are you? Who's with you?" The anger and worry in Bruce's tone was not lost on the kid.

"_We're all at a warehouse on the southwest side of Gotham, near Brown Bridge. We found Dick's bike. And…_" the teenager hesitated, not exactly happy to tell the rest of the story. "_A dead body._"

"What?" The breathless disbelief matched the teen's actual state.

"_Yeah. Can you get over here? And bring the cops? Tim's having a full blown panic attack, Cass is keeping Dami from contaminating the scene further, and Alfred's trying to calm everyone down._"

"Which warehouse?" The man demanded, becoming charged with energy with each passing second. Barbara took a step forward, worry now taking control of her face. She knew Jason, and heard plenty of stories about how reckless he could be. And with Dick missing, she was sure his siblings would do quite a few more extreme actions than usual.

"_S14D3. Kinda hard to find. Had to talk to a security guard to find it. We've got the little thief from before tied up outside the building so it should be easier to—_"

"Stay where you are. I'll be there in twenty with Commissioner Gordon. Don't touch anything."

"_Wasn't intending to._" And with the tone of the teen's voice, he'd keep that promise.

Bruce nodded once before clicking off his phone and giving Jim a determined glare. "Call in your men. We have a lead."

"I'll go. You go home and—"

"Jason and the others found a crime scene." His worried glare became shadowy and dark. He wasn't about to back down now. Never could. "A corpse."

* * *

Police lights flashed as both Gordon and Wayne's cars drove up to the warehouse in question. It took them a little time before they could locate the building, tucked away where most couldn't see it. There were no cameras pointed towards it from other buildings and the lighting around the area hadn't improved in that particular quadrant. They would have missed it entirely if Bruce didn't recognize Dick's motorcycle, one of his cars, and saw a man freezing outside it, zip-cuffed to a poll. With one small body running straight towards their cars as soon as they appeared, the location was assured.

Tim nearly floored him when Bruce exited his vehicle, his small form shivering and sniffling long before he made impact. The horribly sleep deprived father quickly gathered him up and tried his hardest to calm him. "I've got you Timmy. It's going to be okay. Shh… I've got you."

"She's dead…" The man heard through the panicked sobs. "She's dead… He's dead…. All gone… Cold… And… So much…"

"Shhh…. It'll be okay." Bruce could only guess what was going through the kid's mind. Occasionally Tim had night terrors from long buried memories of finding his father's body when he was three. Back then he was the one who called 911, soon found in a near catatonic state and covered in blood between the two bodies. Thankfully Bruce was quickly called up to help the then toddler calm down, but severe damage was done. Timmy suppressed all memory of his biological father, too young to remember much anyway. Finding this body, whoever 'she' was, must have brought the only concrete one he had back to the surface. "I've got you."

"Young Master Jason is still inside," Alfred explained as he came towards the two, carrying a very sleepy Damian and Cassandra tagging along silently. He had only a little more rest than his employer and yet looked no worse for wear. He still wasn't pleased though. He looked to the commissioner who quickly joined them as he updated them on what they found. Other sirens could be heard in the distance.

"They have touched nothing but the door handles and a few boxes. And this." The butler put a hand in one pocket, pulling out a USB port antenna wrapped in a handkerchief. He scowled at the device. "Until Master Jason had found and removed this offending device, we could not even call out."

Jim Gordon took the piece of evidence, wrap and all, looking it over as if it were a puzzle he couldn't solve. Very possible. His skills were in deductive reasoning, not technology. Thankfully his tagalong daughter was.

"Looks like a wireless router. Some of these guys have built in programs. What was it connected to?"

"Barbara," her father chided, "please, let me do my job." The redhead nearly rolled her eyes, but worry for her boyfriend took precedence over giving him attitude. The commissioner gave a slight sigh before looking back to the butler. "Okay, where did he find it? And didn't that phone call say something about a…" He hesitated saying more when he heard Tim's sniffling again.

"Miss Cassandra will lead you," Alfred informed them. He looked back to his employer who continued to comfort his stricken son, despite listening intently. "The entire warehouse is fashioned into a maze if one goes through the obvious door. We found another, but it only opens from the inside. There are tire tracks just outside it."

"Any you recognize?" Bruce demanded. Gordon was about to go to the door when he mentioned that bit.

"A common winter tread I'm afraid." He butler waved off towards the highways and the bridge beyond. "They quickly join traffic after leaving the lot. Miss Cassandra followed them for a time while we waited for your arrival."

"We better get inside," the billionaire started. The commissioner raised a hand to stop him.

"I'll go inside. You stay out here and take care of your family." He motioned towards Tim still shaking in his arms.

Bruce's eyes narrowed defiantly. "Jason won't leave the scene until I get there. I'll keep Timothy's back to it and he'll be fine. Cassandra."

The Asian girl nodded, swiftly turning about and dashing towards the building. Her father immediately followed, quickly tailed by Gordon, frustrated. "For pity's sakes! Why can't you just… Barb! You stay out here! The squad needs someone they recognize to help find the place!"

"But…" the redhead whined to no avail.

"The scene doesn't need any more contamination!" Both burned with fiery frustration as they went to their designated locations. Though Barbara didn't like being told what to do in this instance, she understood why. Let her dad to his job was all. So she had to keep the butler company, outside, in the cold.

Once the two men were indoors, the policeman gave the billionaire a low growl. "Don't touch anything. Just get your son, then leave the building. This is my territory."

"Understood." It surprised Gordon and Cass he gave in so easily, but the hard look in his eye and the way he continued to rub the boy in his arms back put that surprise to rest. Just this once he'd do as he was told. Probably.

"This way," the girl ordered. "And watch your feet. There's a few traps here and there."

"Traps?"

"An obstacle course," she stated evenly. They turned a corner as she explained. "That's if you keep to the ground. We figured Dick only walked so far then went on top of the boxes to get to the end. Easier to solve."

"Agreed."

"I'm too old for that," Jim murmured, running a hand through his hair. Couldn't Gotham villains make anything simple? Maze and traps. This was looking more and more like a nightmare by the second.

Silently they maneuvered through the labyrinth, dodging trip wires and other simple traps before making it to the lit room at the end of it all. Jason was balancing on the edges of some crate walls looking at something high above them a bit closer, a digital camera dangling from his wrist. If the troublemaker wasn't so fond of rock wall climbing, Bruce would have been worried. Didn't stop the commissioner from telling him to get down from there. It was a good twenty feet off the ground after all.

"Just taking some pictures," the teen stated before pushing off and rolling into a backflip before reaching the ground. It was a maneuver Dick would be proud of, but not as graceful as the one he'd pull off. Practical. That was the way their dad would describe it. He landed about fifteen feet from the body in question, forcing himself not to look at it. "Haven't moved a thing. Why did you bring Tim back inside?"

"Had to see this for myself," the man explained, stopping his approach. Bruce didn't move any closer to the body, stopping just short of the neat pile of Dick's belongings. Neat. The only thing Dick kept neat was clothes, and that was for space purposes back in his circus days. What laid on top of the pile made him take a step back. Phone was expected. Watch, high possibility. The rings… "Someone took him."

"Get over here!" Gordon ordered sharply, making certain Jason left the crime scene for the professionals. The teen rolled his eyes briefly before coming over and joining his family. "Really… what is with these kids of yours?! Checking out crime scenes… Please tell me you didn't touch the body."

"Didn't have to," Jason insisted, still not looking at it. He inclined his head over to Cass. "Cass is good at reading people, living or dead. She just barely saw it when Tim was about to check and she stopped him. He put two and two together at the same time I did and started having his break down."

"How did you find this place?" the officer demanded, going over to the body himself. Yeah. She was dead alright. At least twelve hours judging by the rigor.

"Recent online bank statements from our joint accounts." He stayed near Gordon but kept his eyes far away from the lady. "Tim's idea. Dick doesn't keep his wallet on him at all times, but he was going out to get presents. Usually he keeps it in his saddlebags unless necessary. Stops him from overspending. Tracked the money, found a pattern, found the guy using his cards and then got him to talk."

Inside the commissioner groaned. "How did you get him to talk?"

"Alfred."

He looked over to the boy's father still looking at the pile for an explanation. "He used to be British secret service, paperwork mostly. Any idea who she is or what she died of?"

"No idea." Jim took out his cellphone and started taking pictures of the body before taking out a rubber glove to actually search it. "We'll know more after the autopsy. Now get back outside, all of you. There's enough contamination here to have all your prints taken as is."

* * *

A/N: X3 the plot thickens. Yeah, why didn't Bruce find it? because he was emotionally compromised and hadn't slept that night. Since he doesn't spend every other night without sleep like Bats would, he really wasn't thinking straight. Tim's the next best detective and at nine he figured out his and Dick's ID in the normal-verse so he was bound to come up with a few good ideas. Also get an idea of how exactly he got Tim here (love Identity crisis!). What a scarred three year old. X3 Jason's keeping his cool because finding ODed dead bodies wasn't that uncommon on Crime Alley and he's older. Had to keep his cool for the others too. Cass would know if someone's alive or dead at a glance. And Dami's sleepy, he doesn't know nor care what's going on. He's gonna be oblivious during most of this so don't be surprised if he seems to have no reaction to a lot of things. In the extended i'll handle his reactions a bit better.

Love Barbara here, but I think this is about all the cameo she'll be getting here. Too bad. her and her dad are pretty cool characters. I hope I got her right. 3X She and Dick's relationship is important in here, FYI. that's all I've got to say. laters.


	53. Sacrifice-5-The Day After

Just an FYI, This isn't a short arc. Those thinking there's gonna be a quick resolution, sorry. Far from. *evil laugh* now I must warn you, in the near future there will be a variety of torture coming along with quite a bit of training. I've had to cut most of it back in this version but this will get pretty intense. You get a taste in this chapter, but the next... you have been warned. All ye sadists, ENJOY!

Dick-16/17 Jason-13 Cass-11/12 Tim-9 Damian-3

* * *

**Sacrifice**

_5 – The Day After_

They changed cars twice. Once outside of Gotham and a second time after they left the neighboring state. Now he was in the back of a semi being forced into doing push-ups while the thing was still moving. Very, very difficult. Especially with Slade's commentary, orders, and his feet on his back.

"On your knuckles apprentice."

Dick gave him an exhausted and exasperated glare for a moment. He couldn't be serious?! He was barely keeping his balance in that thing! Perfectly formed push-ups with added weight was hard enough while in motion. But on his fists? Not even his PE teacher put him up to this! Sure Bruce told him how but… "Now apprentice."

The man waved the controller around. Gritting his teeth, the acrobat shifted his hands into fists best he could, wobbling as he continued. Slade told him to keep going until he said stop. That was over half an hour ago. How could he keep going? His muscles were on fire, sweat was pouring down his face, and he shook more and more with each squat. What number was he even up to?

"It's amazing you've made it this far on your own," the man started, watching him through his one eyed mask. Dick tried to ignore him as he talked, focusing on his task. His ears were starting to ring. "Most boys your age would have collapsed by now. Course, they don't have the sheer willpower you do. When a man's mind is made up, no force can stop him. Endure anything. With the right training, you alone could end a war."

'_Wars are pointless,_' the teen reminded himself, trying not to fall. '_They all end with peace talks. So just skip the killing and get straight to the talking._'

"I've had a hand in ending a few," he continued, "even before they've started. Taking out Kaznia's Admiral Chekov stopped a nuclear disaster. Maybe you'll be shooting down his successor in a few months."

"Ah!" Dick's concentration broke at those words, making him slip and fall flat on his chest, pinning his arm underneath him. He swore he cut his hand on something and bruised his sternum on impact, but that wasn't what really hurt him.

Shooting? Killing? That was breaking Bruce's second rule. Not to mention going everything he ever believed in since he was born. And Slade wanted him to do that in a few months? Horror filled him at the idea of what being his apprentice meant. He knew Deathstroke was the world's greatest tactician and one of the world's most dangerous men, but for a brief moment he forgot he was the leading assassin as well. His apprentice would one day take that role.

"Is something the matter apprentice?" He knew the man knew what was wrong. Dick could always tell when someone was amused just by their voice. Slade was baiting him into saying the wrong thing, he knew it. One slight wrong move and… "Don't tell me you're tired already."

Of course he was tired. The young man hadn't slept since his abduction, barely eaten anything. There was water nearby thankfully but he wasn't sure what the rules were yet. Maybe going for water without permission would be breaking them. Controlling his tongue and temper, the teen wormed his arm out from underneath him to try again. He tried not to think of the blood on his hands, both real and what would likely become real, as he tried to perform another set of push-ups. He collapsed again, this time from exhaustion. Stopping then trying to start something difficult again always proved harder. A third time he tried to get up, only for Slade's boots to grind into his back.

"That's enough. You've proven your dedication. Now," the man swished his feet away from him, walking around the collapsed boy on the metal floor, "drink up, take care of that hand, and be ready for your next evaluation."

"E… Eval… uation?" The acrobat panted laying on the floor, eyes bleary as the vibrations and hums of the vehicle carrying them went through his body. It was hard to think right then. '_Breathe, what's this guy planning? Breathe, ow that hurts. Breathe._'

"I know you're talented," Slade explained coyly. "But not yet polished. To be perfected, I need to know your flaws. To rid you of them."

'_Then get yourself a robot,_' Dick mentally ordered. No one was perfect. Not even Superman. He couldn't count how many times he and his family had one upped the man of steel.

"Now, that hand. And hydrate yourself. Can't have you collapsing in the middle of a fight now can we?" The man walked a ways off from him, giving the boy enough space to move around freely, if he were able.

The young man looked at his hand after a minute of resting and didn't like seeing it. He wasn't bleeding much and the wound wasn't big, it just hurt a lot and came from one of the creases in his hand. Plus his knuckles were scratched up from the earlier exercise. It was the palms, not knuckles, of his hands that bore calluses. It'd be some time before his body could adapt to the training.

Another minute or so passed before Dick rolled to a position he could push himself up from. Water, medical. They were right next to each other. Had to get there, had to survive. Somehow, he had to beat this, beat Slade. And that meant doing what he man said. For now.

* * *

"Mr. Wayne!" "Mr. Wayne!"

"Mr. Wayne, what do you have to say about claims of your son running away?"

"Mr. Wayne! Any opinion of why your son's belongings were found next to the body of Shereen Macamyre?"

"Mr. Wayne! How will your son's disappearance affect Wayne Enterprises?"

"Any idea who could have assisted your son's disappearance?"

"What are your holiday plans now that your son is gone?"

"How are your other children handling the disappearance of Richard Grayson?"

"Any leads on who could have taken him?"

"Mr. Wayne!" "Mr. Wayne!"

The crowd of reporters was always annoying the past, but now it was unbearable. Everyone was trying to get a statement, from _The Inquisitor_ to _The Gotham Gazette_ to _The Daily Planet_. Dick wasn't gone for more than twenty-four hours and everyone was hounding him for details. He hardly had any, him or the police.

Bruce narrowly avoided being mobbed by reporters, saying 'no comment' or nothing at all as he left police headquarters. The FBI was staking out his house at the moment in case a ransom demand was made. But with only the body and Dick's belongings in a well-crafted warehouse labyrinth as a lead, they hardly had anything. All he knew now was the same as what he learned when he first made it to the crime scene.

Now he was home, with the press outside his gates and federal agents and police going in and about his house. The kids gathered in the study shortly after Alfred took them home, waiting for their dad to find time to sneak into the cave. Their home felt invaded and empty at the same time; and the truth was only one person was missing.

It was nearly night time again before Bruce could make it into the study where they were waiting. He dragged his feet, slowing down with all the overwhelming feelings surging through him, as he came inside, firmly shutting the door behind him. He locked eyes with them, seeing their fear and desperation for answers, only for him to close his eyes and shake his head in grief. "I'm sorry. We—"

He couldn't get the words out. How could he explain…

But he didn't need to. Seeing his state, all four of his children ran to him. The man fell to his knees and gathered up as many of them in his arms as he could, desperate to keep them there where it was safe. He wanted them safe. Happy, warm, and whole. And yet without Dick, all of that was gone. A gaping hole appeared in their lives, one he couldn't fill himself. All he could give them was what he had right then and there, strong arms to hold them, and a cave to hide away from the rest of the world in.

* * *

Bruce had his head in his hands, leaning heavily against the computer console in the cave, taking in every emotion he tried to suppress throughout the past thirty hours. Every piece of anxiety flowed through him, trying to form tears but constantly being burned away by rage. Dick was missing, and he had no means to find him. Every person he knew was against him or the League, and knew the connection between them, was accounted for or had a signature he would have recognized. This was someone entirely new.

"Why didn't you call me first?!"

He gave a sardonic smirk at the voice. "I wondered when you'd show up." The tired and worn man looked towards the red and blue Boy Scout floating next to him, just as enraged and worried as he was deep inside.

"I was at the police station," Superman insisted, glaring daggers, "and at the front gate. Why didn't you call?"

"Because at first I didn't know he was kidnapped." Bruce looked beyond him to the medical beds on the far side of the cave. None of the kids felt safe in their beds with all the FBI and police people in the manor and the reporters outside. Word had spread quickly and now the whole family was under attack in smaller ways. Under most circumstances, when any of them felt scared, he'd just have a crowded bed. Not this time. "Then I couldn't find an opportunity. Too many people."

"Of course he was kidnapped!" The kryptonian barked. "What other option could there be?" He received a long look from the mortal and blinked. He never saw the man so worn. Tired yes, but not like this. "He wouldn't just run away… right?"

The man shook his head, not knowing. "Dick and I… we've been fighting. On Halloween I… well, suffice to say, we haven't been on the best of terms the past couple months. I… might have given him reason to want to leave—"

"But he wouldn't," his friend insisted, believing in the lad.

"No, he wouldn't." Bruce looked away mournfully, seeing his children again. "If it were just the two of us, I have no doubt he would have left to cool his head. But he doesn't abandon his siblings. He loves then too much—"

"He loves you too—" Superman cut in.

But he ignored him. "And they need him. Dick wouldn't run away from them. And certainly not like this.

"I've been giving him space," he continued, "trying to figure out what I should do to… Help him? Raise a teenager? Let him go? Still don't know what I'm doing. I pretend I do but…" Bruce shook his head tiredly. "Before he left yesterday, he made promises. We were going to talk, hopefully figure this out. He's stayed out late and all night before so I thought…"

"You thought he might have stayed over at someone else's place?" It was beginning to make sense now.

"For a little bit," he admitted. "Bad traffic, lost track of time, normal things. Then his signal made no sense. No alarms, no sirens, I couldn't be sure what had happened. I didn't want to call you in until I was certain something was wrong. You or anyone else. Searched all night. It was Jason and Tim who found a lead, and that's only given more questions."

"So you didn't call me in," Superman interpreted, setting his feet on the ground at last, "because you didn't know for certain if he was taken or being a rebellious teen still mad at you."

"In a way." He actually didn't call him in because this was something of a personal matter and he was thinking as a frantic worried father instead of as Batman at that time. The former vigilante should have called his friend for help first. Maybe they would have found that warehouse sooner and the car that took him. "By the time I thought of you or the League, the police and FBI were involved."

"Who came up with the runaway theory?" That was what struck the man of steel. Who would think Dick would just leave like this?

"Some federal agent not interested in finding anyone." Bruce brought up the records of an Agent Farrel, glaring at him. The man didn't look too bad really, but he wasn't on record for solving many cases. Writing people off as runaways seemed to be his MO. "He thinks Dick left on his own accord because there was no struggle and he left everything he was wearing behind. Thinks he's been planning this for months."

"Everything?" He looked at the man oddly. "But he only has one term of school left right? And it's nearly Christmas. This really doesn't make any sense."

"He left his parents' wedding rings behind." The haunted, serious gaze in the CEO's eyes struck his friend. It was what sealed the deal for him. "Dick never takes those off. I couldn't trace those even if I tried and he knows it. If he really ran away, he'd take clothes, cash, and every piece his family owned he could carry, then run to Haly's Circus. But they're in Europe right now and everything is where he usually puts them. He wouldn't ruin other people's holidays like this and he definitely wouldn't have left before graduation."

"So he was taken."

"Manipulated." Bruce's computer program finally finished running, exposing the data it'd been running for the past half hour. Quickly he opened it to see the results. "His clothes were folded properly, no signs of a fight at all. It's likely he was lured out there, then used Shereen Macamyre to coerce him somehow."

"Shereen Macamyre?" The reporter hadn't heard that name before.

"The dead woman they found in that place. Probably killed to keep her quiet. A perfect murder."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because no one can do an autopsy on her without violating their doctor oaths or being under threat of lawsuits." His eyes narrowed on the information before him. "Her family's faith requires the body to be whole for burial. Coroners can't even determine cause of death beyond looking over her body and taking blood samples. She'll be cremated in two days."

"Giving me two days to do X-rays and gathering samples without anyone being the wiser," the other man murmured slowly. That could satisfy a few Leaguers and one worried bat. Superman saw the frustration growing on his friend's face then looked at the screens. "What is it?"

"Dick was getting a series of texts from different burn phones," Bruce growled, slumping back into his chair. He was hoping to get more information from his son's phone, but someone had sent out a magnetic wave before leaving that building. Recreating the device's memory was nigh impossible. "One of those had to be luring him out and all I've got is a garbled message!"

The alien looked over the message the program managed to piece together and frowned.

_-mily's secr – und-wor – truth - S14D3 – alo - 4p - _eat Expect_- mi-_

"Looks like someone knew something about you guys." His eyes widened, jerking over to Bruce's face as he pieced it together. "You think someone figured out you were Batman and that you're supporting the League?"

"That or who Damian or Cassandra's other parentages' are. Either way," the man wasn't happy as he reached the obvious conclusion, "Dick must have been convinced someone knew the truth about something and was going to expose us to our enemies. A meet was set and Dick went."

"This could break down Ferrel's runaway theory."

"Or reinforce it." He ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "If we can figure out who this person is, or what they knew, we might have a solid lead."

"Can't trace where the other person bought their phone?" Bruce just gave him an annoyed glare. "Working on it?"

"Tracing phones, even burn ones, takes time. There are millions of numbers issued out there and a computer, even this one," he motioned to the giant contraption before them, "needs time to go through them. I'm running all the leads I can under the circumstances."

"Ah." Superman looked over the pieced together text for a moment and frowned. "I'll go take care of Shereen Macamyre then do a few sweeps through the city. With any luck, you'll get a call from the kidnapper before I return."

The man just nodded, still staring at the screen as the kryptonian left the cave. He barely heard him murmur, "I have a feeling this isn't going to be that simple Kent. Not this time."

* * *

A/N: See how thorough Slade's been? He's made it so no one can find out about the probes effects or of their existence for a while, scrambled Dick's cell (did quite a bit more trickery with the texts too), even changed vehicles to unnoticeable ones. Commercial trucks don't get stopped that much in the northeast for human trafficking, right? I think they do near the Mexican border but that's about all. Anywho, here Slade has a lot of resources and is using them to keep Dick hidden. And training started immediately. Knowing how hard it is to keep your balance in the back of a pickup, I'd think Dick having trouble with this and anything else Slade has him doing in those things. Wintergreen for the most part is doing to be their driver.

As for secrets/scandals, Bruce has a lot. Let's count them! Supporting the League, Retired as Batman, Cass' parents are both world class assassins, Damian's out of wedlock and his mother is the heiress of the League of Assassins/Shadows, Knowingly dating Catworman, Nearly killing Joker for what he did to Jason, Dick's involvement in Zucco's capture/death... I'm certain there are others too, but those are the major ones. And don't stocks go down if the company's owner has some personal crisis going on? Dick getting taken like this spells a lot of trouble on so many levels.

In other news, this marks a full year of being on . Special thanks to all my readers this past year. Hope I can keep at it for another one. I think I'll make some lemon bars later to celebrate. TTFN! ^^V


	54. Sacrifice-6-X-Mas Nightmare

Well, here's how Dick spent Christmas. remember I warned you things would get a little rough. *evil cackle*

Dick-16/17 Jason-13 Cass-11/12 Tim-9 Damian-3

* * *

**Sacrifice**

_6 – X-Mas Nightmare_

December 25th. Christmas. And what was Dick's present from the psychopath who took him captive through very effective blackmail? Blue skies above him, thick trees and snow around him, and a tablet with a recorded video feed of his family the previous night. They still hadn't discovered the cameras in the manor. They didn't know how dangerously close they were to being discovered as being the greatest supporters of the Justice League or that Bruce was Batman. The study was one room Slade didn't have a camera. He recognized every room they were in, and each of them were public areas open to people during parties. The last one they had at the manor was in early November, a charity function. They weren't required to attend it for very long so he didn't remember the guest list. No wonder they hadn't realized Slade was there back then.

Watching his family now, the teen could tell he was missed. Damian was the only one really smiling as they put gifts for each other under the tree. But even his smile faded when he looked around expectantly. Tim didn't even try to hide smaller gifts in the tree's branches like usual. Cass was making herself as small as possible in her favorite chair, looking over to where an FBI agent was posted at the phone. Jason was trying to lift people's spirits with carols, but failed to lift his own. He could read his lips trying to sing 'Mele Kalikimaka', only to bite them shut. Alfred bustled around the room, offering tea, coffee, and hot chocolate to everyone in there, if only to keep himself busy.

And Bruce? He was often looking out the window, searching for something that wasn't there. In one hand was his phone, having finished a call with someone, one of many no doubt. The worry on his face was evident in every crinkle, in every random white hair he had on his head. His clothes looked like they were worn a few days in a row, and with the dark circles under his eyes, he wouldn't be surprised if he had.

'_The League's probably looking for me now,_' Dick thought idly, keeping his gaze on his family on the screen. '_Probably trying to keep in contact with them above ground, get more info if they have any. Can they have any? Slade did a pretty thorough job getting me lost out here. And where's Selina? Bruce could really use her right now. Don't tell me she ran again. Uhg. Just what we need; two disappearing acts during the holidays._'

He looked back to his siblings, spotting one of the rashes Slade mentioned before. Cass had hers on the back of her neck, right next to where her brainstem would be. It was small and faded compared to the lady at the warehouse's, but it was still there. He remembered his sister scratching the thing about a month back. Why hadn't he suspected anything wrong back then!

The big brother's thoughts ended when he saw Damian trip over one of the packages. Everyone jerked forward to help him when he fell, including himself. The three year old screamed and cried, probably tired more than hurt, on the floor for a second before Tim of all people came to his side and picked him up. He watched as the two youngest held on to each other for a moment then realized Tim was imitating what he did whenever the two had fallen in the past: picking them up, holding them close, and rubbing their backs and swaying in time to whatever music was playing. For once Damian was holding onto Tim, sad and tired, but not fighting him. They were actually getting along.

"Good job you two," Dick murmured softly, proud of them. He continued to watch them fondly as Bruce came over with the bat-blanket the toddler liked and wrapped his youngest up in his arms. Jason gave Tim a supportive pat on the back as they started to disperse from the room. It was Christmas Eve after all, they had to get some sleep.

Alfred lingered in the room with the agent, looking at one particular set of gifts around the tree. Sadness peeked out of the Brit's features, despite all his training to mask it. Those were the presents they found in his room. The ones he was going to pick up earlier would have been sent to the manor that afternoon if he forgot to. Receiving them must have sent new waves of worry through them. At least they knew Dick was thinking of them before disappearing.

"Time's up apprentice."

The acrobat took a slow long breath to try and calm his already racing, aching heart, before passing the tablet back over his shoulder. His master took it then passed it behind him to Wintergreen. Dick kept his back turned to the man, sitting on a rock a little ways away from their camp.

It was an abandoned military training camp. The reason why was unclear, but it gave them shelter, a generator, running water, and plenty of firewood to keep them warm. Well, if the one-eyed psycho would let him be warm. That uniform he was wearing wasn't very well insulated. But something about this place made the winter cold bearable. There wasn't much snow at the least. It was why Dick had gone outside to see his family instead of staying indoors. Besides, he absolutely hated the company.

"I have another gift for you apprentice," Slade started, stepping around him to make them look at each other, face to face.

"Unless it's the detonator and my freedom, I'm not interested." He turned away, glaring hate at the ground. In the past few days he learned he could get away with a little sass every once in a while. Attempts to grab the detonator were even acceptable, and expected. Every sparing session they had he would try to grab it. Maybe if he hung around Selina more he would have learned to pick the guy's pockets for it, but he hadn't and every attempt gave him new bruises. And he had collected quite a few.

The man chuckled, amused by his antics. This was why he was allowed to be sassy: Slade thought it was funny. "No, I'm afraid not. You're not ready for that quite yet. This though, you will be."

Despite himself, the acrobat took the box the man passed to him and started to open it. As soon as he saw what was inside, he panicked and threw it as far away from him as possible, box and all. He jumped to his feet, leaping away from the thing in rage and fear. How could he…

The assassin chuckled to himself, highly amused. "It's only a gun apprentice. Not a bomb, a contagious disease, or a snake. Only a gun."

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!" A gun. Just a gun. They weren't even allowed to talk about guns around Bruce! No squirt guns, nerf guns, popguns, B.B. guns, or even gun related games were allowed in the manor. Rule 2 was one no one dared to break on purpose, especially around Bruce (well, Jason occasionally did, but he avoided doing so around Bruce). Guns ended lives! A gun killed Jason's father. Tim's dad had a gun when he was killed, taking his murderer down with him. Cass was regularly shot by her biological father. Then there were Bruce's parents. And how many times had a gun been pointed at him and the others? Guns were never good. Batman hated them.

"Are you that afraid of something so useful?" Slade sounded quite amused by his outburst.

"I am NOT USING THAT!" He pointed vehemently at the firearm, shaking slightly. He couldn't… he wouldn't! He was not capable of killing, of using that thing!

"Do you really think you have a choice in the matter, _apprentice_?" A slight edge entered the man's voice, driving icy daggers into the boy's chest. He fingered the pocket holding the trigger for the probes, making the boy turn white, breathing uneven. Slowly Dick closed his eyes, the fight leaving him. He shook his head, cringing away but not moving anywhere. Slade smirked behind his mask. "Good. Now be a good boy and pick up your gift."

Slowly he obeyed, hearing Bruce's disapproving voice in his head the entire time. Maybe it was all of that man's lectures conditioning him to react that way to the horrid weapon, but he still couldn't stand the feel of it in his hands. Cold and heavy, so very different from his weapons of choice. Batarangs and escrima sticks were his personal favorites, dull and required more skill. If Batman could see him with that thing now, he'd be highly disappointed in him.

"Wayne never taught you how to hold one of these has he?" Dick bit his lip at Slade's comment before shaking his head. Guns and Bruce usually did not go in the same sentence. Exasperated, the assassin came to his side and repositioned his hands to hold it correctly, even at rest. "Pathetic man. I taught my sons that when they were five."

"Don't call him pathetic."

"What was that? _Apprentice_?"

He wanted to take back that remark immediately after saying it. Some sass was allowed. A lot of it could mean punishment. But he already started, may as well finish. "He saw his parents die because of one of these things. Can you really blame him for not wanting anything to do with them? It takes a lot of courage to stand up again after something like that."

"You continue on a trapeze," Slade shot back, not impressed.

"Falling was part of the job," Dick rebutted, turning towards him with a clenched jaw. "And they'd be upset if I quit just because they fell, no matter the circumstances. His dad was a surgeon. Guns aren't part of the job description. There's a difference."

"And yet he still fears them," not impressed.

"He's not scared of them!" He jerked away from the man, glaring daggers despite still having the weapon in his hands. "He just knows what they can do and has compassion enough not to use them!"

"And in turn convinces you to fear them." Still not impressed. "A coward."

"You're one to talk!" Anger boiled inside him alongside his fear. "Blackmailing me by holding four kids' lives in your hands! Trying to teach me how to be like you when I'd rather die! Badmouthing someone who'd take in five kids he never met before without question or reason! Hiding behind that pathetic excuse for a mask! Probably can't even face your own kids because of your career! You're the definition of a coward Slade!"

His ranting was cut off by a sharp slap across his face. Dick always had a problem stopping his mouth when he was angry. Said one word too much. He knew the man was glaring death upon him now. Must have hit a particularly bad spot. The teen kept his eyes on the ground, trying to control his breathing. He forgot for a moment what was really on the line there.

Slade took the gun away from him before saying a single word more. "You're clearly forgetting how things work around here apprentice. Run around the fence, and keep going until I say otherwise. Now."

He didn't need another invitation. Instantly the acrobat was running to the wire fence around the base and started running alongside it. Anything was better than having to be near that man. If he were anything like him, he would have just shot him with that gun instead of yelled at him. But if he shot him, he'd be no better than Slade. And one thing he didn't want to be was him.

* * *

Dick nearly collapsed, exhausted from running. Slade hadn't told him to stop for nearly three hours! PE had him run forty minutes before, but they built up to it. Bruce and he would go jogging for an hour during the summers once, and later as he grew up and debated playing for different sports teams he kept it up, but never had he run that long at that pace! Dripping in sweat and shivering from the cold, he wondered what the point was of running that long.

Oh yeah, he called Slade Wilson, Deathstroke the Terminator, a coward. Well he earned it. He called Bruce pathetic.

"Get over here apprentice," the assassin ordered, pointing to one part of the lot. The ground was mostly concrete there, making the acrobat wonder what he was planning next. Slade didn't stop him for any one reason. There was always more than one. Shakily the teen obeyed, gasping for air. Wasn't it about time he had some water?

Apparently not. Glaring at him, his master barked an order. "Strip."

"Wh… what?" He couldn't be serious.

"You smell." The glare remained firm in his one eye. "Strip."

The man's hand went to that pocket, making Dick stiffen. Great. Glaring at him now, he started taking off the uniform the man forced on him earlier that week. There were no clothes or coverings to replace these one nearby. Wintergreen wasn't even around. He was not going to like this.

The teenager stopped short of his underwear and undershirt, shivering in the December air. A harder edge entered Slade's voice. "All of it."

"You've got to be—"

"NOW!"

'_Pervert._' Still glaring at him, probably more now, he removed what was left then buckled over as a cramp started in his back and legs. Warm muscles being suddenly exposed to freezing temperatures did not react well.

"On your feet apprentice."

'_Nazi._' Clenching his teeth and slowly stretching out his muscles to alleviate the pain, he returned to a standing position. Just in time to see a fire hose in Slade's opposite hand, ready for use. '_Huh?_'

"It's time for your shower."

"Wha—NO!"

Realizing what was happening too late, he threw his hands in front of him defensively just before the water shot forward at him. The pressure of it threw him against the chain-link fence behind him, further bruising his muscles. He cried out in pain and agony as the water hit him, moving up and down his body. He tried to get away, tried to evade the spray, but Slade's aim was true the entire time. His moving around only made it possible for the evil creature to torment his entire body. Desperate for some stability, he gripped the fence and felt the cold metal rip into his skin. He let go after a moment and slid down to the concrete slab beneath him, just taking the pressure and the pain accompanying it.

He huddled on the ground for maybe a minute, shivering and trying not to cry out in pain as the water hit him before it stopped. Once it ended, the winter chill struck him with more force than it had when was buried in snow back home. Shivering took control immediately. This… this was too cruel. Why did he…

A towel was thrown over him. Not a large one, but not one of the dinky kinds either. "Dry up and get inside. We're not done for today yet. Don't bother getting dressed, they need cleaning."

Slade turned away, tossing the hose aside as he headed back into the bunker they were using at the moment. Dick just shivered here in the cold, one hand on the towel covering him. Why… Why was this happening to him?! What did he do to deserve this?! Why had Slade…

Even with the cold seeping into his body, the horror filled daggers striking his heart were worse. If he hadn't shown off, none of this would have happened. And now lives depended on him cooperating with a mad man. That meant living. Slowly he broke from his private huddle and started wiping himself off. He had to get dry then go inside. That's all that mattered at the moment. Get dry, get inside. Get dry, get inside. Survive.

Oh, and Merry Christmas.

* * *

A/N: I had to think of a way to torture Dick without causing long term physical damage. I saw them doing this to Jared on Pretender and thought it was pretty effective. Course there will be other things he'll go through, breaking him down *evil laugh* but this will be a huge barrier he'll have to over come later. Also eventually Dick will have no choice but to learn how to use a gun, no matter how much he hates it. Reference to Slade's boys was fun too.

So we have the Waynes thoroughly miserable at Christmas and some family bonding midst trouble. Jason's not the only one stepping up in the big brother department and it kinda mends some bridges at the same time. One or two of my siblings used to hide presents in the tree, so I had Tim do it. he's the sneaky one after all. If you're wondering where Selina is or what's the League doing, everything will be answered in time. You won't really see Damian's reactions because for the most part he's three and isn't catching everything that's going on. In the extended, we'll have them explaining that he's gone for a while. Just don't know where to place it yet.

Rambling. Laters.


	55. Sacrifice-7-Cat Cam

Who's up for making 1000 reviews here? Just ten away! is it possible to break 1000? *shrug* Well, here's what's going on with Selina. Time's passing faster and I've kept it to the essentials, so it'll be going much faster soon. Enjoy!

Dick-16/17 Jason-13 Cass-11/12 Tim-9 Damian-3

* * *

**Sacrifice**

_7 – Cat Cam_

Three weeks. Nothing. Police and FBI were all but gone from the Wayne Manor and grounds. Two officers left their numbers with Bruce but that was all really left of government involvement with this case. No ransom, no proof of life. Agent Ferrel's idea of runaway was becoming the common idea among investigators. All but those who knew Dick personally.

It was only when the feds had left that Selina visited, and not through the front door. Bruce gave her a glare when she walked through his study window. "Do you have to use that route?"

"Couldn't count on Alfred's kitchen entrance being safe." She gave him a sly look. "Last I checked, the FBI didn't like me. Something about releasing their prisoners one night."

"Cats I hope."

"Most indefinitely." She closed the window firmly behind her. "Can't have my friends being used as guinea pigs. Anyway, about those things you told me to look out for," she turned about, all business, "I got some details."

The man straightened in his chair slightly, highly interested. Three weeks ago, the day after talking to Superman and getting those samples (which so far led nowhere), he had called her asking for help. Using both the League and her connections in the criminal community, he prayed to get a bite somewhere. The tech Jason found at that warehouse was deemed untraceable, homemade, by official reports. Bruce believed them to be prototypes of some newer tech company. Stolen tech. That is where Selina came in. "Oh?"

"Someone's been buying stolen tech," the woman started, moving around the room to get warm. "Top quality, untraceable kinds. Prototypes like that signal jammer and those vid-screens were among them. Word has it the guy who bought the tech, also killed the thieves. No one's saying who it is or they don't know. I'm guessing they're too scared to know."

"So the person who took him—"

"Someone big. Someone quiet." Selina looked away in frustration. "And doesn't run in my circles. Whoever it is, they're really good.

"What I can't understand is why take Dick and not call for a ransom?" She gave him a truly confused look, despite her concern for the boy. "I mean, there's no other reason to take him, is there?"

"None that I can see." He didn't like it. Who would? The whole thing was too suspicious.

"And the whole set up, far too complicated for just a kidnapping. Manipulating him to go there, using some lady, probably killing her, in order to get him to do what they want, then leaving everything he had on him behind, along with all that tech?" She shook her head, asking his own questions. "What are they really after? Why take him?"

"I've been wondering that myself." The man handed her a printout of the mysterious text that still bothered him. "What can you make of his?"

She took a look and scowled, thinking. "A lot of gibberish. What kind of secret could you possibly have?"

"Besides dating a suspected felon?" Selina peered over the paper at him, raising a testing eyebrow. Bruce gave her a serious look. "Everyone has secrets Selina. Scandalous ones. I've managed to suppress the media in the past, keep the kids out of the limelight, but one wrong step and the peaceful life they know, we know, and it's over. Dick knew this, probably better than anyone."

"So he was trying to save you." She couldn't help but to smile a bit. "That's so like him. He planning on saving the world then? By getting captured?"

"Possibly." Frustration ate away at him. "If that text wasn't so garbled up we could have a solid lead."

"Or maybe nothing at all." She passed the paper back to him. "A text is useless unless you can figure out where it came from. And wouldn't Mr. Amazing be using burn phones and cash?"

"Not just any burn phones," he began, getting out of his seat. The CEO picked up a tablet and brought up a file showing her everything he knew about that particular part of the puzzle. "Previously confiscated ones supposedly in police custody in Star City."

"What?" Selina took the list and went over it with a cruel eye. "Dead phones? From Star?"

He grunted in the affirmative. "Apparently our kidnapper is a traveler. West coast, east coast, he may not even be American."

"Someone lifting old burn phones from Star PD would make some noise," she note, looking through the random numbers. "I might be able to make some headway from this. How many times was he contacted?"

"About half a dozen times. Most of these numbers were rerouted through each other to confuse the search."

"Even though they led nowhere?"

"He's thorough." Frustration permeated from every line on his face. Whoever did this did not want to be traced. It was a struggle not to blow up or crumble into a mess at each dead end. "Not many people can manage this. He'd need training or access to an expert in communications."

"Sounds like your department." She passed him back the tablet. "I prefer the low-tech route. Now that reimbursement I talked to you about?"

"Doubled for you troubles." Bruce knew he was asking a lot of Catwoman, helping him like this. Technically she didn't have a reason to help him. He may even be putting her life at risk. But she saved Tim once, no questions asked. He could only pray she would help save Dick too. And to ensure her services, he'd pay her anything. He rewarded her handsomely for saving Tim after all. This task was anything but simple, so paying twice as much as she spent was well worth it.

She smirked, giving a satisfied nod. "I'll see what I can do once I get to Star."

"Stay for dinner?" Bruce insisted, coming towards the door.

"You haven't had it yet?" It was nearly nine at night. That was rather late for dinner, especially with a toddler and elementary school kids around. School was starting back up shortly after all.

The man looked away as they left the study. "None of us have much of an appetite lately."

"Hm. Interesting." She tilted her head to the side, contemplating his actions and words. Sounded like they needed a friend. All of them. "What's Alfred making?"

As the two of them walked through the halls to where the children were, Selina looked around and took in the changes in the manor since Dick's disappearance. The place seemed quiet, less lively. Almost like a hospital at night. Christmas decorations were still up, but ill cared for. Even the diligent butler couldn't find it in him to maintain the status quo they had before. Dust was starting to gather on the edges of their favorite portraits.

'_Dick, whatever that secret was you are trying to keep hidden is, it better be worth it._' She looked over to Bruce again, frowning at his solemn expression. Not a drop of playfulness anywhere on him. He was the same as the manor: quiet as a graveyard. And it would stay that way until his eldest returned.

"Selina!"

At the sound of her name she looked around, spotting Tim rushing over to her from the grand staircase. His black cat hoodie drooped on his shoulders as he flew towards her excitedly. Within seconds she felt his body slam into hers, wrapping a hug around her waist.

"Timmy! How are you hanging there kiddo?" She couldn't help but smile at the kid. Automatically her arms surrounded his head and shoulders on impact. Not exactly comfortable, but it got the job done.

The boy shook a bit before steeling himself to answer. "So-so. Did you hear about Dick?"

His hold loosened enough for the woman to kneel down and get on eye level with him. "Of course I have. Been out there looking for him the past few weeks. That's why I haven't been around here."

"I thought you were just avoiding the cops," the genius stated flatly, trying to act strong. She could tell the past few weeks had been hard on the kid. If Timmy wasn't talking about computers, books, or complaining about Damian, he was talking about all the things Dick did, with him or with others. The kid idolized his big brother.

Selina gave a soft chuckle. The kid was sharp as a tack. "Well that too."

"Any leads?" The kid bit his lip in anticipation. Just like his father he was desperate for anything related to Dick. Anything that would bring him home safely.

But again she had to admit the truth. Shaking her head, "Nothing that's panned out yet. Just a lot of stolen tech."

"What about the parts?" He started in a panic. "The kidnapper can't just scrape off the numbers or designs of the pieces making those things can he?"

"Still trying to find matches on the pieces," Bruce promised as he returned with a sleepy toddler leaning against his shoulder. Cass was just behind him holding onto a book. "But Selina's going to be checking out that phone lead we dragged out starting tomorrow. Upturning all possibilities from several different angles is a large part of detective work."

"Different angles eh?" Selina gave him a slight smirk as she came back to her feet. "Don't trust me to get the job done alone?"

"I just have a friend in Star who runs in different circles," he explained. "He has a ward a little older than Dick, so he sympathizes and agreed to keep an ear out. I doubt you two will cross paths. What is it?"

For the past few seconds the woman just stared at Cassandra in slight confusion. "Great Expectations…"

Bruce looked over to his daughter and the classic novel she'd been trying to read over the holidays. Most days she would have finished a book that size in a couple weeks, but she was having a hard time concentrating on it due to everything around her. It wasn't that unusual, but the woman's eyes nearly popped open at the sight of it. "What about it?"

"Eat Expect. Cass, where do you normally read?"

Everyone stared at her as if she was nuts; that was until Bruce took another look at the book and remembered the phrase. "Oh my… Jason!"

"What?" came the teenager's muffled yell from the kitchen area. They could hear him coming towards them but it would be a bit. In the meantime, the man directed the others.

"Cass, you're usually in the parlor, right?"

"Usually…" The confused girl looked between the two adults. Tim was just as lost as she was. "What's going—"

"I'll take a look around there first," Selina stated, striding forward the way the girl had come. "You take a look around the second level."

"If there aren't any," the man concluded, "we have to assume they're piggybacking off of our security feed."

"What's going on Dad?" Jason started as soon as he was in the room, very confused. "When did Selina get here?"

"Jason, put Damian to bed," he ordered quickly, nearly shoving the toddler into his arms. "Then get the others to eat dinner. I'll explain later."

"Say what?" His green eyes grew wide in confusion and terror. _He_ was in charge of his siblings? Now?! Cass and Tim were just as thrilled about it as he was, and twice as confused. Only a groggy Damian, starting to fuss at being passed around, seemed normal around them.

Just as the two adults started charging around the house, Bruce murmured, "We may have found a lead."

* * *

Half an hour later their father came towards them, a very frustrated look on his face. Alfred was just cleaning up dishes while the children tried to find excuses to stay up (Tim was having a hard time keeping his eyes open this late). Selina was just behind him, picking up something black, shiny, and reminiscent of cheap magnets off of one of the doorframes. It was pointed straight at the small kitchen table they used on a regular basis. Both were carrying small bags filled with the same kind of device.

The man took one of those same things and tossed it on the table for the kids to see. Jason was the first to ask the obvious. "What's that?"

"A spy camera," Bruce stated plainly, glaring at the offensive device. "It's how whoever took Dick knew what was going on in here. So far we've found twenty spread out around the manor."

"My word!" Alfred just gaped at the thing, letting the dish he was working on drop back into the sink. "I can't believe I didn't notice them before!"

"They were cleverly hidden," Selina started, making the butler not feel so bad. "On fake plant stems, linings of frames, edges of door posts, even on the black parts of entertainment centers. You should check fans, light bulbs, between shelves, nooks and crannies in the morning when the light's better. These almost look Government Issue, but not FBI. I'm thinking China."

"Whoa…" Jason picked the thing up as the other two leaned in. This was a lot to take in. "Hold on a moment. You're saying the guy who took Dick put these around our house?!"

"Exactly."

"When?" "How did you figure it out?" The boy's voices overlapped each other. But Cass was the one who answered Tim's question, holding up her book.

"Great Expectations! My book! I was reading it when Dick was taken." She looked up to her father to see if she was right. "'Great' has 'eat' in it and 'expectations' starts with 'expect', one right after another! Just like in that last text Dick got."

"Second to last," Tim reminded her. "We just can't read the last one."

"So some ugly put cameras in the manor, discovered something to blackmail Dick, then to prove he can do it tells him you're reading that book?" The teenager's summary was close to what his father had theorized.

"Pretty much." Bruce took back the camera, glaring daggers at it before putting it with the others in the bag he was carrying. "I need to get these to one of my labs. It's likely there's a signal we can trace."

"Unless big bad is watching now and has cut the connection," Selina started, playing devil's advocate. He grunted in acknowledgement.

"Your job the next few days is to find every single camera we missed," their father informed them. "Find them, destroy them. No exceptions."

"Like an Easter Egg hunt." The kids exchanged looks, nodding in acceptance. Their egg hunts became very involved very quickly. Now that they were on the hunt, they'd find all those cameras, and any bugs if they were around the house too, no problem to it. Their father saw that look and knew the rest of the manor's security would be in good hands, but at the end of next week, he was going to call Superman back in to do a multivision sweep.

"In the morning." The man swiftly turned to Selina as he started on his next task. He had to use an alternate route to the cave to get on this because of her presence. "The three of you are going to bed. You have school tomorrow. Selina, please consider staying the night to make sure they get their rest."

"Considered." She gave him a slight coy smile as she handed him her bag. She'd stay the night, then she was gone.

The kids exchanged looks again, this time unsure. After a moment of elbowing, Jason's voice stopped their dad. "Hey, um… Dad?"

"Hm?" He looked back to him for a moment, ready to go. But he stopped because of his son's hesitation. Jason was anxious about something, the cameras?

"With everything going on, wouldn't it be better if we… didn't go to school?" The teen gave him a pained, begging look. His father's narrowed slightly at the question, so he had to explain. "The press is still going with Ferral's theory of runaway and the kids at school are going to… well you know, be real jerks. I was thinking you should just—"

"No." His firm voice matched his eyes. He understood where they were coming from but, "you have to go to school. All of you. Pulling you out now will only make things worse when we get Dick back."

"There's an old British saying that's applicable here Master Jason," Alfred interrupted, drawing their attention to the stalwart old man. "Keep calm and carry on. Master Richard would want you to do just that in this instance. Each of you. He would be greatly saddened if you left school on his account."

Hearing the man's words, they had to agree. Dick wouldn't want them to be pulled out unless it was necessary, especially the younger two. They gave relenting sighs before nodding. This was just the way it had to be. That was all.

* * *

Slade thrust Dick against a hard wall, pinning him in anger with his forearm as he brought the iPad close to his face, showing him something. "Who is this?!"

The teenager barely got a look at it while struggling with the man's grip. "I don't know!" '_Selina,_' his mind whispered, though his face hid any knowledge of this woman.

"You're lying!" He let the video run for a moment, displaying her familiarity with the parlor. "She's one of Wayne's old girlfriends isn't she?!"

"I don't know! Maybe!" It was hard to breathe being pinned like this. Why was Slade so angry about her being there anyway?

"Slade," Wintergreen started, trying to calm his friend down, "I don't think anyone can answer under these conditions."

One thing Dick liked about this other, older man was how he could occasionally make Slade see reason. Occasionally. He didn't always interact with them, much less than Alfred did with them. And he didn't have being British as an excuse for being so cold (really, Alfred's distance was entirely cultural and job related, nothing more). This time he had to, or the teenager really would have passed out before making any real answers. Deathstroke let go of him after a moment longer, letting him slide down the wall helplessly.

"Fine. Take a moment to think apprentice. Who is this woman?"

He looked at Selina's picture again and put up his best confused look in existence, the one that got him out of trouble with the principal when he pulled a prank and there wasn't sufficient evidence to pin it on him. "Really, I don't know. I don't keep taps on all of Bruce's girlfriends. I hardly meet half of them."

"She's clearly been to your house." The man's one eye glared hard on him. "She found the cameras."

"Huh. Good for her." Dick glared away, trying to think of a good excuse/backstory for the lady. "Maybe she's from Bruce's days traveling abroad. He met a lot of people back then and keeps in contact with them. I didn't always live there with him you know. For all I know she's Interpol, or even Catwoman. Hear she's hot."

Slade continued to glare at him, not pleased with the answer. The boy could tell he was thinking he was lying (so he dropped a little truth to throw him off), but he kept talking anyway. He knew how to talk after all. "Seriously, I've never met half the girls Bruce as gone out with. The rest of them we categorize by hair color and number. We don't bother to learn their names if they don't last six months."

The man's eye narrowed for a moment, considering his words. Dick knew they made sense. He just prayed they sounded true enough to throw the man off Selina's trail and that his expressive face didn't give her away. Bruce needed Selina, if not as a comforter then as a resource. And Dick really didn't want to endanger her any more than he had already. Deathstroke could be vicious.

Finally the man turned away, seemingly accepting what he said. "You better not be lying boy."

"They were going to find your cameras eventually," the teen jibed back, forcing himself back to his sore feet. Every part of him was either bruised or sore in one way or another. Scabs and new scars covered his hands, knees and even his elbows from all the training he was forced into. A newer cut on his chin started to bleed again and the one hidden in his unruly hair itched like crazy behind him. But despite all of that, he kept the sass up. "Alfred's really good at cleaning and you should see our Easter Egg hunts. Bruce hid them in really weird locations. One day Damian would have spotted one on accident and your whole scheme would be found out."

Slade gave him a cold stare, studying his features quietly for a moment. "I think you need a shower, apprentice."

Dick's eyes widened in terror. "No… No! I had one—"

"Get outside and strip." He brought out the trigger, waving it just next to his eye as encouragement. As more dread and terror filled the teenager, flinching the entire way, he walked forward to the yard outside the bunker they were using at the moment. He had to do as he was told.

Behind him he could hear the man giving Wintergreen new orders. "Prepare for our departure. We leave in two hours. No point in leaving a trail for Wayne's people to find, even if the signal did self-destruct before being pinpointed."

"Very well. Street clothes?"

"Naturally. Pity they had to find those cameras. They were more for his benefit than mine. Thanks to that woman," Dick cringed inside as he heard the rest, "he will never see his family again."

* * *

A/N: and Dick is moved from an abandoned military base probably in Pennsylvania to... who knows where. All because Selina found the cameras. Bruce called her and asked for her help but she couldn't make an appearance until then because of her past with the FBI. Because she bolted to Hawaii or somewhere else after the argument, Slade never saw her before. The fact that she's an intricate part of Bruce and thereby Dick's life and he didn't know about it kinda scares him. He also doesn't know about Barbara because she hasn't been by the manor during the stalking either, which will be important. =]

So the house is now camera free and the kiddos have to go to school the next day. Things are only going to get harder for them. And considering life goes on whether we like it or not, Alfred's 'Keep calm and carry on' will be used often, and later made fun of. Enjoy!


	56. Sacrifice-8-Proof of Life

We've reached beyond 1000! YAY! Anywho, one thing that has to come out I guess is that there's another option other than kidnapping and running away. and now we will address that. =]

Dick-16/17 Jason-13 Cass-11/12 Tim-9 Damian-3

* * *

**Sacrifice**

_8 – Proof of Life_

Bruce practically crumbled on his bed later that night, nearing midnight, hating himself and grieving at the loss facing him once more. Their one lead, those cameras, blew to pieces five minutes after he entered the cave from the outside route. As soon as he tried to trace the signal the cameras were sending their intel to, they self-destructed. He could hear pops and surprised yelps above him seconds after, telling him all the ones they missed also were no more. Not one survived.

How stupid he was! Carless and stupid! He should have dissected one of them first, make sure there weren't any explosives! Maybe then he'd be able to at least use one for part identification. His one solid lead to finding out what happened to his son fell through his fingers like water. Now… now he had nothing.

Selina tried to sooth his shaking and tears, not needing to hear what had happened to know something went wrong. Three weeks of nothing, then this, one hope, and… Devastated didn't even begin to cover it. Nothing she could truly offer him would be a comfort this time around. "We'll find him. Really Bruce, we'll find him."

"I…" A broken voice escaped his lips. Weeks of restless nights, scraping for clues, having hope taken away within an hour of finding it, all of it was taking a severe toll on him. A fear deep within him peeked out of hiding, taking advantage of how much this hurt him. "I don't even know if he's alive."

"Don't talk like that." It was something that crossed everyone's mind at one point or another. There were three possibilities really. Dick was either kidnapped, a runaway, or dead. The effort put forward by the mysterious third party indicated forethought and planning. Dick was useless dead, but no proof of life or any kind of demand gave them little to hope for. "He's alive, and we will find him."

Somehow.

* * *

They were on the road for a week (maybe?), not stopping except for gas and restocking on some supplies. They were using a U-Haul truck of all things as a cover this time. Slade would train Dick in the back of it most of the day and sometimes into the night. Only when they were about five miles outside of a town and needed to get gas in did Dick ever get to sit in front with Wintergreen and his master.

Due to the severity of his twisted wrist during their last session, the teen was allowed one day's rest and sitting in the cabby's backseat. Better than sleeping in back, but not by much. At first Slade was going to have him read some tactics documents to fill in the time, but the dizzy spell that came with reading in the vehicle put an end to that. Dick hadn't had sever motion sickness like that in years, but this one time he appreciated it.

"We'll have to pick up some Dramamine in the next town," the man muttered bitterly. He glared his one eye mildly at him through the mirror. "How long have you had this condition?"

"Inherited it from my mom," the teen answered, looking out the window to clear his mind. The sunglasses he was wearing (something they picked up for him in the last town) covered his black eye nicely. He hadn't dodged Slade's fist fast enough earlier, landed bad on his hand, and now was in the cramped back seat. His civies were welcomed in compare to the uniform he was forced into before. Warmer too, hoodie over long sleeve shirts, gloves, scarf, boots, thick pants and a ski cap can do that for a person. "Honestly I've never tried reading in a car after leaving the circus."

"Hm."

Dick glared at him through his glasses for a moment before looking back out the window. He hated how small things Slade did, like grunts or 'hm's reminded him of Bruce. The guy didn't fight like him and was a bit smaller, but there were several similar character traits they both had and it unnerved him. He was afraid one day the guy would do something Bruce would and he'd unconsciously call him 'Bruce'. He never wanted to do that. They were nothing alike at the core of things, and he had to make sure he remembered that.

Looking back out the window, he let his mind rest a little. He was so tired of always being on guard, always being tested. If this man was going to try something to manipulate him further, then he had to be ready to fight it. Occasionally Slade tried to act fatherly around him, comforting him on occasion when he had a nightmare (quite frequent lately) or helping tend his wounds. Dick made a point of rejecting him when he could but it still confused him to no end. He hated him, maybe as much as he hated Zucco or Two-Face. He shouldn't be finding any comfort in this man, at all. It was better to just look out the window and hate him.

Something caught his eye, making him blink in surprise. He adjusted his seating to lean his chin on his good hand, and have it cover his mouth as he looked out the window. He didn't just see… All around them was farmland. Snow covered farmland. But was it…

A sign came into view and it took all of his self-control not physically acknowledge it on instinct. He hid his smile, his hope, best he could. He peeked at the gas gage and felt the hope inside him grow with each passing second. They were going to stop. They had to stop.

'_Okay, slow down Dick,_' he mentally chided, controlling his breathing best he could without giving anything away. Slade had good ears. '_Slow down. You've got to think this through._' His eyes worked back and forth behind his shades, very very glad he was wearing them. If he was going to get anything right, he was going to have to be careful, and the best actor in the world.

Before he even formed a complete plan, they were pulling into the gas station. Slade gave him a shrewd look. "Remember, John Willis," he emphasized slowly, "we're moving from Missouri to Oklahoma. Your mother, my wife, died of leukemia. My name is Grant and your uncle is Mark."

"What was my mom's name?" he asked with a little sarcasm. It proved he was paying attention and would play along at the least. His captor couldn't punish him for that.

"Mary of course." Dick scowled. John and Mary. Had to bring up his real parents. At least they were common names. The man gave him one more warning look. "No funny business while we're in there. It'd be a shame to blow this nice place to pieces."

"Blowing up Hicksville." The teen rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that's not suspicious."

He looked around, stretching a bit as he put his snow coat over the rest of his gear. Quite a bit of snow, so no pump boy to help out visitors. Well, even if there were one, Wintergreen would be handling the pump. This was one of the old fashioned stations where you couldn't use cards at the pump so they had to go inside.

"Welcome!" The person at the counter started, putting up his best fake face. Dick rolled his eyes at the jerkwad, very glad his glasses hid his eyes. "What can I help you with?"

Slade gave him a smile as he pulled own his scarf, some sunglasses covering his eye and patch and a ski cap hiding his hair. Not a bad disguise. "Just passing through. Sixty on pump three? And a few other things in a minute."

"Of course!"

"Mind watching him for a minute while we hit the head?" He first pointed to Dick then to himself and Wintergreen, who already was headed to the bathroom. The teen was checking out the tourist displays for the moment, seemingly bored. Since this was a normal gas station, two stalls were expected to each gender exclusive room. Age before beauty, and just where was Dick going to go?

"Go ahead." The man's fake smile became more genuine at the navy term, making the teen scoff as he played with the key chains with names and corn on them. Slade passed him, probably eyeing what he was doing behind those shades. Dick actually looked over his with a 'what? Think I can call for help like this?' look. Satisfied, he went into the back where the bathroom was.

Quickly he jammed the names he collected right under a familiar name. Clue one, if anyone bothered to look for it. Faking casualness, he made his way over to the marker display and started drawing on the test page. After a minute he smirked sadly to himself, ripped off the paper, folded it up, and slipped it in a crack just next to the display. Wasn't a real message and he doubted it'd get anywhere, but it wouldn't put the guy behind the counter in trouble. He then proceeded to write another note for later, making it as colorful as possible.

"Enjoying yourself?"

Dick nearly jumped out of his skin when Slade's voice appeared in his ear. He looked over his shoulder to the guy and glared a little. "As much as I can."

"Hm…" The assassin looked over the page he was doodling on and couldn't help but to smirk. 'YOU SUCK!' screamed at him in the most colorful display known to man. Complete with swirls, fireworks, and even a Superman crest with a bat underneath it. The boy was a fair artist. "Really. You could have figured out something else to write."

"For who?" He capped the pen and started towards the bathroom. "It's Hicksville."

"Hm." Slade let him pass him to the toilets without another word. He had other business to attend to.

Once in his private stall, he immediately got to work. Before playing with the pens and markers, he palmed one of them up his sleeve. Quickly he took off the cap and wrote on one side of the stall.

**HELP! I'VE BEEN KIDNAPPED BY AN ASSASSIN AND HAVE TO DO EVERYTHING HE SAYS OR ELSE! CONTACT RAY PALMER AND TELL HIM TO CHECK ON THE LEAGUE'S FIRST FAMILY! THE KIDS ARE IN DANGER! DO NOT ERASE!**

'_Please,_' he pleaded in his heart, '_last long enough for him to see it!_' A pit grew in his stomach as he used the toilet as quickly as he could. He knew deep down this was a long shot. Slade probably predicted he'd try something like this. Marker wasn't too hard to get off bathroom stalls really. He was going to need another backup plan. He looked forward at the stall door, grim determination settling in.

A couple minutes later he came back towards the counter, his palmed marker already misplaced on another display while Slade finished his shopping there. He was even talking friendly like with the man behind the counter. "You know how teenagers are. All doom and gloom."

"Don't I know it." Dick gave both of them a sour glare behind his shades. They were talking about him the whole time. Did he notice the palmed marker after all? "I'll take care of his little 'note' later tonight."

Apparently. His captor smiled graciously as he took up his bags. "Much appreciated. John? Ready to go?"

"Can I get a Snickers first?" Hey, teenagers ate candy too didn't they?

"Ah, no." There was a slight edge to his voice, one that made the acrobat's insides twist. "Defacing private property has removed that right for a while."

Dick rolled his eyes, groaning a bit. Yep, caught. As the two of them left the station, the truck refilled, Slade murmured in his ear. "You're lucky he's a reasonable man. He's not about to believe any crazy tale you put on those stalls."

"It's not crazy if it's true."

He had to smirk at that one. "What did you write?"

The teen clenched his teeth for a moment as he stopped just short of the truck. "Help? I've been kidnapped by an assassin and I have to do everything he says or else? He's threatening Bruce Wayne's kids' lives in Gotham with nano-scopic probes? Do not erase?" He rolled his eyes, shaking his head at the ridiculous sound it made coming from his mouth. Yeah, it really did sound crazy. "Do you really think I'd write that? No one would believe me."

"You thought of it though." There was a slight edge to his voice.

"I've thought about it in every town we've passed through," he admitted grimly. He really had wanted to leave a message at every point they stopped and let him out, but always hesitated and stopped before putting something down. "But I don't want anyone to get hurt. I put a bat on the side and wrote 'call him' instead."

This made the man smirk. "A bat. You've been drawing bats."

Dick shifted, uncomfortable. "Just twice."

"You draw bats on the ground whenever you think I'm not looking," Slade stated flatly. He shook his head. "Why bats?"

This actually made the teen smirk. "Ever heard of Batman?"

"Tank is ready." Wintergreen joined them, looking at the bag they had purchased. "Dramamine?"

The interruption ended the interrogation, putting everyone back into the vehicle and leaving the small town far behind them at long last. Dick watched it disappear behind him through the mirrors longingly. Silently he prayed his real message, the right message, would be received and from there would spring a light at the end of the tunnel. This had to work.

* * *

"Brr!" Jonathan Kent shook out his coat and boots as he entered the station's corner store. If they didn't need gas so badly, they would have driven to the one on the south side of town (much nicer people) but such as their luck would have, they were running on vapors. "Can't wait until the spring thaw arrives Martha, I really can't."

"If you had your way, we'd be in Arizona with all the other members of your poker club." Martha Kent grinned impishly at her husband, undoing her scarf as she started going to the counter. "I'll take care of this. Go ahead and take care of your business dear. You're still filling up the tank in a minute."

Her husband smirked and shook his head as he headed to the restroom for a bit. His miracle wife could handle Fredric a lot better than he could anyway. Stepping inside he could see the stall was recently cleaned, head to toe. Every scuffmark and doodle kids did was long gone. Well most of them were bad so he didn't mind really, but there was one large area that was nearly scrubbed down to where the paint was gone. He shook his head. Some days cleaning things wasn't worth it. A new coat of paint though was.

He sat down for a moment and started his business before looking at the stall door like always. Looking at it he blinked. Something was carved into the door, paint gone and even some of the metal. Fredric was definitely going to need a few coats of paint there. Thing was, the image was familiar. Quickly he took out his reading glasses and put them on. Looking at it again his jaw dropped.

"MARTHA!"

Hastily he put his pants back on, rushing out the room to his wife, calling again. "MARTHA!"

"What?" She looked over the man in confusion. "Please tell me you aren't having trouble again."

Quickly he grabbed his wife's hand and pulled her to the bathroom. "Get in here!"

"Jonathan!"

"Hey!" Fredric darted after them. "No women in the men's restroom!"

"Stow it Freddie. This is important!" Mr. Kent brought his wife into the stall he was using and showed her the door. "Look!"

Martha's jaw dropped in disbelief. "Oh my…"

"What are you two looking at?!" The man glared at them both, wanting them gone.

"How long has this been here?!" She demanded immediately. She pointed to the carving, making the grouchy clerk roll his eyes.

"That R? Some punk kid carved it in about a week ago." The old couple exchanged frantic looks. "His old man told me he was having a hard time getting over his mother's death and he was telling everyone he was kidnapped. Writing it everywhere they went. And he did, right over there. Crazy story too. What's it got to do with anything?"

"He might actually have been kidnapped!" Martha barked back, severely angry at this man. Before them was Dick's seal, what he carved or drew on any of his projects he did at their place. A poorly carved sculpture had it on the base (a present he was making that just couldn't get right). An R in a circle.

Jonathan took a picture of it and sent it straight to his son on his cellphone. "I'll call Clark over. He's been going crazy about this."

"You better remember everything about that customer Fredric Joel!" the old lady started, charging forward at the now panicking cashier. "Because if anything happens to that boy because of your carelessness, I swear I'll have your mother, your wife, and your sisters on your hide before you can blink!"

* * *

"Are you sure that's all you have?" Clark Kent, freshly arrived in Smallville about five minutes after receiving the call from his dad (claiming he was visiting over the weekend and was just around the corner earlier), looked around the shop at the same time as interrogating the man he remembered selling candy at his high school. Fredric went from slightly cocky ex-military store clerk to a shaky witness of something they'd been waiting for nearly a month.

"That's all! I swear!" The clerk cringed, devastated that he let something big slip through his fingers so easily. As if it wasn't bad enough he was kicked out of the navy. "Two men were with him, one claiming to be his dad. They all wore sunglasses and kept their hats on so I can't really give a good description."

"Bad with faces anyway," Pa recalled.

"I think they were military," he admitted. "Called the restroom the head."

"That's something," the reporter admitted, glaring and using his visions to see if anything was left behind for them to use. Any clue. "Would be better if your security camera wasn't fake."

"Anything else?" Bruce was on speakerphone, his voice exactly as when in Batman mode.

"Nothing. Sorry sir."

"What was that thing he wrote on the stall?" Ma demanded, remembering the scrubbing signs on the thing.

"Uh… 'Help' I think. 'Do not erase' too. I think I remember 'I've been kidnapped' and it had something about assassins and league and something about a family?" The man cringed. He really had a bad memory. One reason he was kicked out of the navy.

Clark jerked his head around in alarm. League? Assassins? Could that mean… "B. Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Not their MO," the phone stated flatly, not noticing all the confused looks it was getting. "Last I checked, they have no interest in him and they wouldn't stay in the states if they had. But may be worth looking into later. Knowing Dick though, he would have left another kind of message if he could. What exactly did he touch around there?"

"Uh…" Fredric looked up trying to remember. "He… played with the key chains, moved a lot of them around."

"Do you remember which ones?"

He shook his head, cringing. "I fix them every day. Someone's always putting certain names together or just don't bother putting them on the right peg."

"Anywhere else?" Clark didn't think you could pass a message with those things anyway. Maybe prove he was there but that's about all. Kids liked to play around with them anyway.

"Uh… he was at the pen and marker display. That's where he got the sharpie I think." Immediately the Kents, all of them, went over to the display, hoping for some hidden message there. The clerk cringed again as he continued. "I rip off the used pages every night. I think that one day he made a pretty page saying 'you suck'."

"And he'd know that…" The older Kents looked at their son as he murmured, wondering what was going through his mind. Using his X-ray vision, he looked all around the display until he found was he was looking for: a perfectly folded five sided diamond piece of paper stuck between the panels of the gondola. It was one place the clerk wouldn't look. "Pa, help me slide this thing over. I think there's a note here, somewhere."

"Wai—"

"You got it son." Jonathan faked picking one end of the piece as Clark shoved the thing open, letting the paper (and a few others crumbled up between the holes) fall to the floor. Instantly he went to his knees and picked it up, unfolding it quickly. Dick was a clever kid who occasionally made notes for him and folded them like this. It was their thing. He stared at the words inside before giving a defeated laugh. "What is it son?"

"It says, 'Happy Birthday Cass. Sorry I can't be there. Stay safe. Love, Dick'." He looked up and away, both relieved and disappointed with the message. It was Dick's handwriting, but couldn't he have left a clue as to where he was going or who took him? No, he used his one chance to wish his sister a happy birthday. Sweet, but not helpful.

"Maybe he didn't have time to tell us what's going on. Or this was a one in a million chance and he chose this in case he was caught." Martha's theories seemed viable, but neither helped lighten their moods. She looked at the other papers that had fallen. "Maybe there's another note here!"

She and her husband gathered up all the other pieces of paper that fell to the floor, encouraged by Bruce's voice. "Bring everything. Including the door."

"You can't just take my door!" Fredric was at wits end how. If circumstances were different they might have been sympathetic to the man, but it wasn't.

"Mr. Joel," the phone started, very, very mad, "you neglected to report a missing person's appearance, a possible kidnapping victim, two felons, and tampered with all evidence that could lead to the boy's retrieval. Taking a door and causing a small mess in your store is the least of your worries. Either you deal with this or you deal with the FBI, where you will be heavily fined at the least for interference in a case."

Everything about that phone sent shivers down his body, the cold outside having nothing to do with it. Clark shoved the gondola back into place then came with his parents back to his phone to finish the conversation. "I'll bring everything I've found to your place as soon as I can. I don't see where any of this will lead—"

"It's proof of life Kent," his friend stated, exhaustion and relief entering his voice at last. "Dick's alive. He passed through town and saw a chance to tell us he was alive and thinking of us. And it's more than we've had in a month."

* * *

A/N: Proof of life is important when it comes to kidnapping cases, isn't it? And Dick's been gone for a month with no other leads. I mentioned once the R in a circle before, and I know the Kents know it. So going through Kansas while heading to no where isn't too far fetched, and leaving a message in a gas station bathroom stall is likely. I've cleaned stall doors before and the scratch marks are impossible to remove without a new coat of paint, and even then you can see an after image if it isn't done right. So, surefire message sent to the Kents. The reason why the other message he left is simple and non-specific was because it's a long shot and it could easily be discovered by the wrong person. He did leave a hint inside it, but that'll be revealed later. Someone told me Cass' B-day was January 28th (I think).

As for motion sickness, I have it and it is genetic. Dad's got it and a few siblings. it lessens as you get older and effects vary depending on where you sit in a car, but it never completely ends. I only get headaches if I'm in a car for more than an hour without Dramamine. Also can't switch from reading to sight seeing while in motion. Thought it'd be a good excuse for him not to study in the car and really take a look at their surroundings. Seeing the familiar farms and the Smallville sign helped lift his spirits. He'll be kicking himself later though for not thinking of something else to do later, in the extended. Here though it's enough.

Well, Happy thanksgiving to you all tomorrow! I'll still post like I should, but for those who don't read tomorrow, here's yours today. =]


	57. Sacrifice-9-Strength in Names

For those wishing for a quick conclusion, tough luck. Bruce is going to be keeping track of time and it's going to be a bit. To my my fellow American friends, HAPPY THANKSGIVING! I'm having a small meal with my brother and that's it, mostly because we're both lonely folks with nothing else better to do. =P Enjoy!

Dick-16/17 Jason-13 Cass-11/12 Tim-9 Damian-3

* * *

**Sacrifice**

_9 – Strength in Names_

Dick was in the back of another semi, doing pull ups attached to the roof at Slade's command, when he could feel the vehicle pull to a stop. A short wave radio perked up in his captor's hand and he strained his ears to hear what Wintergreen had to say. They had refueled about an hour ago, or something like that. It was getting harder to distinguish time when he spent most of his time in the dark back of a semi-truck and his regular schedule was ripped to shreds. Time, location, both were growing mysteries to him.

"Only a minor delay with the border patrol. Shouldn't take long."

'_Border patrol?_' The teen was glad his back was turned to his master while he exercised. He didn't think he could control his features at the same time as doing these exhausting pull ups (his legs had to be stiffly forward the whole time, and he'd been doing them since the station). '_We're going to Mexico?_'

"Keep them out of the back," Slade ordered, seemingly bored.

"Shouldn't be a problem."

The man walked around the container, inspecting his form as he worked. "Good form. Your muscles and endurance has improved apprentice. Your legs used to droop after ten minutes."

'_Not like I've had much choice,_' he mentally chided. His muscles were burning, begging to be released. He'd always been fit, but all the exercises and sparring sessions was turning him into a thing of pure muscle. At least Slade fed him or he would have lost a sever amount of weight. The repetitive motion was boring and annoying to tell the truth. He was used to doing flips and tricks when up that high and in that position. This went against every instinct he had, especially the one to drop down and rest for a good year or two.

"After we start moving again, come down and start your pushups. There's a new technique I want you to apply."

'_Take your time Wintergreen!_' Dick did not want to learn a new way to push himself off the moving metal below him. Fists, one handed, he really didn't want to think of what would be next.

Slade continued to walk around him, observing him further. "You know," he started thoughtfully, "'Apprentice' is hardly an appropriate name to present you by. You need a proper name to use in the field."

"Not planning on making me use my real name everywhere?" the acrobat grunted, not really happy with it. Well, hearing he was allowed a secret identity helped a little. If no one connected him to Bruce when he did crimes in the future, it'd save him from any trouble with the press or police.

When he did crimes… He really was starting to lose hope of escaping his man.

"It's not professional," his master admitted. "And really, 'Richard Grayson' doesn't strike fear into the hearts of men. I've thought of a few names. Have you?"

"Kidnapped? MIA? Hostage? No Thank You?" Sarcasm dripped from the teen's lips.

"Really apprentice, you need to learn to accept your new place in life." Slade smirked a bit, stroking his goatee. "I was thinking Strife, Rebel, Renegade, Ravenger, Scorn."

"Lots of 'R's and 'S's there." The truck started moving again, making him groan internally. Quickly he performed a backflip, releasing the handholds at the top of the container and summersaulting to the metal floor below. His captor seemed impressed when he landed easily in the shifting metal. "Okay, what's next?"

* * *

Six weeks. Bruce was at Wayne Enterprises, working on reports from different parts of his company. Lucius Fox had done everything he could possibly do in his position, even taken on many points normally taken by him, but there were some things only the owner of the company could do, regardless of personal situations. Stocks had gone down after Dick's disappearance (he finally got the media to say that over running away) and if it weren't for his second in command, other companies would be eating them alive. Now he had to step up and seal a few deals to make everything work. It wasn't for his sake that he did this, but for all those who worked underneath him. Dick wouldn't want people to lose their jobs because of him.

Tired and worn, he rubbed his eyes and set aside his pen. Not for the first time he thought about talking to an eye doctor, but more than likely five minutes with Leslie would confirm it was the stress and lack of sleep that was making his eyes hurt and his vision blurry. His sleepless nights, often consumed with either nightmares, thoughts, or leaving his bed to check on the others or work in the cave, wore him down to near nothing. Only if one or more of his children snuck into his room could he sleep, a little. But even with the sleep deprivation and constant worry, the world would not wait for him. He had to return to work.

Nearly half the paperwork was done for the week and it was only Tuesday. Fox really did his best to lighten Bruce's load right then. Being a father too, he could imagine the anxiety Bruce felt and helped where he could. Really, the paperwork before him was only the necessities, and even then the man was struggling to pay attention. He had to keep reminding himself of what Alfred said a few weeks ago. Keep calm and carry on.

Not an easy task.

"Mr. Wayne?"

Bruce looked up at the intercom on his phone, surprised at the interruption. He looked over once to where Damian was napping by the couches then at the time. What would she want at one in the afternoon? He picked up his phone to talk to her softly. "Mrs. Dalton, please, you know it's—"

"I really am sorry to interrupt Damian's nap time," the old woman on the other end started, "but the elementary school just called. Apparently there was a fight and—"

"The elementary school?" Cassandra and Tim? One of them was in a fight? "Are you sure you don't mean—"

"It's Principal Hayne. And he said both of them were in the fight. I haven't heard from the secondary division yet." He took in a deep breath and slowly released it, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Alright. I got the message. I'll be there in half an hour. Tim wasn't sent to the hospital was he?" He could only assume Tim was being bullied and Cass stepped in to defend him. She'd be fine, naturally a gifted fighter since birth and learned faster and better than Dick or he had. Tim though…

"No, the hospital wasn't involved." Mrs. Dalton gave a heavy sympathetic sigh. "Do you want me to—"

"No, I'll take Damian with me. Have Alfred bring the car around while I take care of him alright?"

"Yes sir." The line cut and he let go of the phone. He could already tell this was going to be a long day.

* * *

"You really shouldn't pick fights," Cass reminded her brother for probably the fifth time while they waited. Tim just glared at the ground, his headphones on under his black cat hoodie. Truth be told, with the extended antennae on either end of the large all surrounding headphones, he looked more like a bat than a cat at the moment. A very upset yet stonewalled bat. "You never win them."

"They should have shut up then when I told them too," he murmured sourly.

"You know they were only saying things to get a rise out of you." Unlike Tim, Cass had no injuries, just a dirty uniform. The little genius had a black eye, a split lip, and several more bruises to his chest, back and forearms. If his sister hadn't intervened, he probably would have been sent to the hospital.

"I know…"

"They're a lot bigger and older than you too."

"I know…."

"Just because we're all in sixth grade doesn't mean you're automatically able to do everything they can."

"I KNOW!" He snapped a glare at her, surprising the girl greatly. She'd never seen his temper snap like this. He was usually the one who'd burst into yelling tears when he was upset. Glaring and ready to fight wasn't his normal course of action. "Dang it Cass! I know I was going to get the stuffing beaten out of me, but what else could I do?! They can't keep calling Dick those things! I just…" He looked away, shamefaced. "I just wanted them to stop."

"Stop what?" Both their heads jerked up when they saw their father coming towards them. Not wanting to disturb Damian's schedule any more than he already had, Alfred was with him in the car, napping. Bruce though did not look happy; not angry but certainly not pleased about being called down there. "What exactly happened that both of you were in a fight?"

"Uhm…" Tim looked down, trying to hide his face in his hood to not see his father's disapproval. Cass glanced over to the nurse's office not too far off where they could see some boys in their class being tended to. A few parents were in there as well, and the children there weren't horribly hurt. The man noticed them.

"I take it those were your opponents?" He gave them a once over, seeing they were given the light end of the stick compared to his son. Cass was just trying to break up the fight, not hurt them too badly. She always was good at keeping her cool in combat.

She nodded, taking a deep breath before reporting what happened. "We were at the playground after lunch and they were ganging up on Tim for some reason. I think…" The Asian girl cast an uneasy look at her brother, but since he didn't give her any sign to stop, she continued. "I think Tim tried punching one of them for saying something and they started ganging up on him. I just pulled them off of him and made sure they wouldn't be attacking again."

"I can see that. Tim," he gave the boy still hiding in his hood a shrewd look, "why did you start a fight? You knew you couldn't win."

The nine year old stayed silent. "Tim, answer me."

He shook his head vehemently, tightening his scraped fists on his knees. His father was not at all happy about this, and his voice showed it. "Timothy…"

Bruce was about to grab his shoulders and force him to look at him when he notice the boy was trembling. Startled at the sight, he stopped and reconsidered what was going on. Tim had been in a fight, had to be saved by his sister, and now his father was demanding answers. He wasn't used to combat or being beaten up, and it was probably humiliating among other things. Plus Tim didn't start fights. The last time he was part of something considered one he was six.

Kneeling to eye level, he tried to push away his own frustration for being called down there in favor of concern for his son. It was much easier when he could finally see the tears growing in his eyes. Shame, frustration, fear, all of it appeared on his face, making his new battle scars more apparent. Bruce placed his hands on his son's. "Timmy, please, tell me what happened."

"They… they wouldn't shut up!" With those words the floodgates opened and everything came out in one go. "They kept saying Dick ran away because he was a bad boy who did bad things! They said he left because he hated all of us! They said he was a drug addict and that he was trailer trash and a good for nothing gypsy boy who finally realized what his place was! They said the only way we'd see him was in a gutter or behind bars! They said everyone was like that and that eventually Jason and Cass were going to run away too because they weren't worth anything either! They said we k… killed our p…parents! That… that they were d… dead be…because of us! That Dick had k…"

The boy couldn't say anymore. Consumed with shaking and tears, his voice wouldn't work right. Hearing all that, his father's heart throbbed painfully for his boy at the same time as rage filled him for what was said. But his concern overruled his rage as Tim dived into him, wrapping his arms around his neck desperately. "It… it's all lies right? Dick didn't… he wouldn't… he couldn't…"

"No Timmy," he murmured in his boy's ear. "He didn't leave us. He wouldn't. He was taken, and we're going to get him back."

"When?!" Tim demanded, jerking his face to look into his eyes. "When is Dick coming back?! When are they going to find him?!"

"Tim…"

"I want him back!" Fresh angry tears burst forth from his eyes. "I want my big brother back! Where did they take him?! Why isn't he here?! Bring him back!"

"Timothy!" His shout started the kid out of tirade. Bruce's eyes softened as he tried to explain to him. "We're doing the best we can. Everyone is looking for him, day and night, but no matter how much we all want him home now, life moves on without him. And we have to act accordingly."

"But—"

"He's not forgotten and we're not giving up. I swear Tim, we are going to find him, alive and well. But he'd be upset with us if we stopped our own lives just because of him." He butted the boys head softly, gaining his full attention. "Defending his honor and our family is good, but please, think first before throwing punches at people. You aren't big enough to handle half a dozen eleven year olds on your own yet."

Tim hung his head in shame a second later before nodding. He learned his lesson. Not ready to let go of his dad, he buried his face into the crook of the man's neck, holding onto him for dear life. Bruce looked over him to Cass, watching and waiting in her seat silently. Their eyes met and he knew she was burying the same feelings her brother had about what was said. She was just a lot better at controlling herself and her emotions due to her first six years.

He opened one arm up for her and she darted in, releasing her own anxiety on his opposite side. She would never directly reveal her uneasy feelings like everyone else. It was with both his children wrapped around his neck that one of the other parents talking to the principal found them. And with the heavy atmosphere around them, neither knew how to interrupt.

* * *

Jason couldn't help but whistle, impressed. "Wow. Tiny Timmy took on six brats? Dang!" He clapped his kid brother on the shoulder in the car. "Way to go Timbo! Maybe we should go for ice cream!"

"You should not be encouraging such behavior Master Jason," Alfred stated flatly, looking at them from the mirror. The butler was taking the children home after dropping their father back at the office to attend a few meetings and get more paperwork done. They wouldn't be seeing him until late that night, if at all. Damian was snuggly strapped in his car seat and technically it was Jason's job to make sure he was entertained. Batkitty did all the entertaining for him. "As it has suspended both of them for the next three days."

"But they're not grounded, right?" The teen grinned at the two of them, trying to lighten the mood to the best of his ability. Being the oldest there, it was his responsibility to try and keep everyone in good spirits. To help everyone get along, keep them happy and entertained, plus play mediator between them and Dad were his main jobs now. That's what Dick did. Defending them when he could too, but it was looking like Cass could take care of herself and then some. And now Tim was stepping up to the plate. "That's just plain amazing. I always got grounded. Still do."

"That's because your fights were over useless subjects and prove nothing other than your temper."

"And that I'm a better fighter." He grinned proudly, reminiscing with Alfred all the times he got in trouble for fighting at school in the past.

Cassandra and Timothy though did not share his elation at what transpired. Instead they were quietly thinking about how they'd be stuck at the manor with Alfred, likely cleaning with him and taking down Christmas decorations, until the following week. Their father hadn't grounded them on account of what the fight was over and saying he'd likely start a fight as well under those circumstances, but their butler wasn't about to let it slide so easily.

It wasn't being punished though that subdued them. It was the fact that nothing changed, even with all their tears and shouts. They really felt helpless, useless. The fight did nothing but suspend them for a next few days, leading into the weekend. That and prove Cass was still a much better fighter than Tim was.

"Cass?"

"Hm?"

Her younger brother looked at her with a slight plea in his face. His voice stayed soft and low so only she could hear. "Teach me how to fight. I'm sick of being the weak one everyone has to save."

She looked up and down the boy for a moment. Did he really know what he was asking? "Tim, you're better than you think."

"Not good enough." He held on tightly to himself as he looked forward again. "I need to be stronger. Strong enough to protect myself and others. Strong like you and Dick and Dad and Jason. Maybe if I was stronger…"

He left it hanging but Cass could read him better than most. He was beginning to believe it was his weakness that made Dick go away. He was protecting them when he left, they all came to that conclusion weeks ago. Damian was a toddler so there was nothing they could do about him, but Dick had taken down a crime lord by Tim's age. Cass could whoop Jason around when she was seven. Jason had won against and taken down people much bigger than him several times around the same age. Tim was the only one who hadn't a prayer against an adult in a fight. He was weak and they all knew it.

"It's not your fault," his sister told him softly. "It's whoever took him's fault. You know that."

Tim's lips tightened for a minute, silently thinking. "Either way, I need to get stronger. Please teach me."

Cass studied him for a moment silently, thinking it over. They'd worked on building his muscles, coordination, tumbling and quick strikes so he could take hits, escape capture, or take advantage of situations when they were kidnapped. He was rather good at escapes. He had the necessary skills for getting out of tight scrapes, just none yet to test in combat situations. Reluctantly she sighed.

"Alright, but you can't complain or quit if it gets too hard. Obey every order and there shouldn't be any problems. Deal?"

A smile spread on the boy's face, confident and ready to start. It wasn't something she was used to seeing on his him, but was frequently there on both Dick and Jason's faces. Boys… "Deal."

* * *

A/N: So now Tim's getting training from Cass. Didn't her mom help train him in the comics? That's why she's going to train him now. Cass will always be one of the better fighters in the family, usually beating or fighting Dick to a stand still. I know Tim didn't do too bad in that fight in 'Kitten Napped' but he didn't win either. He was just trying to escape, and that's his greatest skill at the moment, not fighting. Jay's got his street rat roots, Cass the assassin parents, and Dick's the natural, hence their young fighter pro-ness. And Tim's what? a smart rich kid, nuff said. He doesn't get to fight much in this series I think, but when he does he'll surprise people.

And yes, Dick's going to Mexico. I google mapped one region looking for a geography near the northern parts that fit what I was looking for and was glad there were few people living in that area. Training, the majority of it, will take place there. No, that's not where he will be found. his road-warrior ways will not end there and they will be returning to the states. three guesses where they'll be headed next. Why Mexico? because I felt like it, and people in Mexico wouldn't be looking for him.

Hey. I noticed I don't have very many training scenes in this world. Does that bother anyone that I mention it but never really show it? Fight scenes are hard to write... Oh well. Laters.


	58. Sacrifice-10-Training

hope you had a good turkey day! mine was okay. I think I'll go have some more pie now. B] Anywho, back to Dickybird for a minute before the Waynes again.

Dick-16/17 Jason-13 Cass-11/12 Tim-9 Damian-3

* * *

**Sacrifice**

_10 – Training_

The terrain was nothing like he was used to. Trees and wildlife everywhere, none of which he could name. He only had a rough idea where he was. Mexico? Maybe. That or southern Texas. He had a feeling they crossed the US border a few times just to mess him up. Slade did a lot of that.

Like dropping him off at the top of a ridge and telling him to arrive at a particular GPS coordinates before sunset. This was the third time he was dropped off like this, forced to race down the mountain side and make it back to their current haunt. Racing the sun wasn't something he wanted to do, especially in unfriendly territory. He still hadn't decided if this was a jungle or a forest.

Dick leapt over an overhanging ledge and caught the limb of an unknown tree before doing a series of summersaults to glide through the branches forward. He didn't have time to climb to the round and do normal hiking, he was racing the sun! And it was winning. He had to get back to that abandoned military outpost! If he was late again he'd…

The teenager couldn't suppress the shiver going down his spine. Going cross country inside the back of a dark semi-truck for hours on end training wasn't nearly as bad as… That stone cold room… after being 'cleaned up'… He trembled at the memory. He really didn't want to go through that again.

But knowing how far he'd gone in only this much time, and that man's disposition, he was going to spend a lot of time in that horrid place. At least until he got with whatever program that guy had in his head. Dick could spend days trying to figure out what that guy wanted, what Slade wanted, from him and never get even remotely close. Bruce was so much easier to figure out.

Remembering the man as he leapt from one large rock to another, sent needles into his heart. He worked so hard not to cry and scream Bruce's name every other night. Or day. Everything was turning into one big blur, and missing someone, calling out their name and knowing they'd never hear you, only made it worse. How he longed to leave this hell he was in, to go back to the safety of that man's presence. He knew he could run, leave whenever he wanted to, but doing that would kill his siblings. Bruce wouldn't want him then.

His steps faltered, throwing him forward and having to catch himself in a roll before sprinting again. He couldn't think about them either. The guilt of knowing their lives hung in the balance of his obedience to a psychopathic killer ate away at him constantly. When his mind was forced blank by the constant workouts and he wasn't able to hate Slade (something that only happened when he wasn't around and he was exhausted) for a second, his mind wandered to them and also to that woman in the warehouse. Logic told him she was either dead or in a state where she couldn't talk to the authorities. Either way, she had been in a great deal of pain when those probes attacked.

Slade was willing to force the same pain onto four kids who were under half her weight. The same intensity. He doubted Damian would have survived. One false move his master couldn't tolerate and…

He didn't see the branch until it was too late. As the acrobat's body continued forward, his head flew back and landed on the ground, flat on his back. Rocks, twigs, some kinds of acorns and other unknowns drove into his back, tearing holes into the thin shirt he was wearing along with adding more cuts and bruises to his skin.

"Ow…" he groaned, staying still for a moment in case he started to black out. After getting beaned in the head by a bat by Two-Face, he knew when to stay down and regain his bearings. '_Focus on breathing. In. Out. In. Out. In…_'

Dick regained consciousness just as the sun touched the horizon. He hadn't moved an inch. "Ah crap." Gingerly he touched the place he was hit who knew how long ago. A mixture of sap and blood met his fingers, telling him all he needed to know. "Great. Skull fracture, concussion, possible infection… Leslie would have my hide. Ow. SHU, here I come. Ugh…"

Slowly he pushed himself back up to his feet, trying to actually figure out where he was relative to his target. No recognizable signs, but he was over half way there. He reached into his pocket and took out the handheld GPS, checking where he was that way. Still too far northeast, maybe five miles off. He didn't know the terrain so there could be some hitches in his pathway. Looking towards the sun again he sighed heavily. He couldn't guarantee survival or making it to the haunt unless he walked at an even pace. The pounding in his head secured his mode of transportation. There was no way he was running now.

* * *

About two hours after sunset he made it to the outpost, wincing at the bright light of the fire. Slade was cleaning his weapons while Wintergreen cleaned up the remains of what had to be a stew. Dick didn't even bother to hide his presence as he came towards them. He twisted his ankle on a root in the dark and further scratched up his hands and arms forcing his way through the brush. The calluses on the palms of his hands were what saved him from serious damage there, and let's not forget the gash on his forehead. He was a wreck, in need of medical attention, though not as severe as it could have been.

"You're late." Slade didn't even look at him, still sharpening knives. "I told you not to treat it like a country hike."

"Ran into a tree." Slowly he shuffled into the light, keeping his distance from his captor. The maskless assassin looked him over with his one eye, frowning slightly. "Couldn't promise getting here if I didn't walk."

"Hm." Wilson looked up and down him for a moment longer before putting aside his knife. "Bring that tackle box over here."

Dumbly Dick nodded and walked over to a stack of supplies they kept on hand. To the side of it was a normal tackle box, filled with bandages and wraps. Another box had medicine and he saw a sewing kit once. The bandages were being restocked constantly. Soon he was two feet from his master, one lightly bleeding hand extending the kit forward so the man could grab it. Frustrated, Slade roughly grabbed the teen's wrist and yanked him forward. "Why must you be so stubborn apprentice?"

"Why do you have to threaten people's lives to get what you want?" His captive stood his ground, though he had stumbled forward when he was pulled. He gave the man a hard glare, reminding him how much he resented the guy. Inside he knew he was asking for the worst, but if he was going to get it, he better earn it in spades.

Slade just raised an eyebrow at him, his lips tightening in disapproval. "Wintergreen, beer."

The kid blinked in confusion as the man caught a can, warm instead of the way most people drank it. He popped the tab and then started pouring the drink on his open wounds. Dick hissed in pain, dropping the box while trying to pull away. The smell was horrible and the stinging along with his wrist being in a vice would have brought him to tears had he been a few years younger. He was getting close to them now. The man's hand moved up his arm so he could get all the wounds. "Kneel."

Biting back an insult, he let his knees collapse to the ground. The can had been emptied by just disinfecting his arms, so another one was tossed to him. Staying true to his pattern, the man poured the can over his head, forcing Dick to tightly close his eyes and mouth. He practically held his breath while the liquid ran down his face and coughed painfully when it ran over his head wound. Some went down his back and his shoulders shot up involuntarily. Slade stopped pouring, frowning even more. "Take off your shirt."

As glad as he was to have his arm released, Dick did not want to remove anything, especially in front of this guy. He'd already seen him naked, several times. He was reevaluating whether this man was a gay pervert every time he was ordered to strip. "Apprentice, turn around and take off your shirt."

Glowering at the man, he slowly turned around on his knees, sliding the t-shirt off his body. He could hear an audible sigh just before the rest of the can was dumped onto the wounds on his back. Again the boy flinched, having ignored the cuts he gained from falling earlier until then. He hadn't even bothered to brush off leaves and twigs when he got up. Only when the second can was empty did he get a break. The heat from the fire before him was starting to burn his skin.

"Get up."

'_Here it comes._' As he started pushing himself off his knees, Slade grabbed his upper arm and pulled. His jaw tightened as they came towards the SHU (or the cooler), solitary confinement, a five by five by five foot concrete building, on the outside. Only the cracks around the solid wood door allowed for air to pass through. Lock on the outside, sturdy and unbreakable for anyone who resided within (unless they had superstrength, which he didn't). But as much as he feared being in there again, it was the large pressurized hose resting next to it that scared him more.

"You smell horrible." The one-eyed man thrust him towards the SHU's wall, letting a bruise refresh itself on his opposite shoulder. "Shoes and pants, over there."

Dick shivered involuntarily. "Please, Slade no. Don't—"

"You've already ruined your shirt," the man stated flatly. "Don't add the rest to the list. And what have I told you to call me?"

Shaking and wincing at the threatening tone of the man's voice, he whispered, "Master."

"Exactly. Shoes and pants," Slade brought the hose up to a firing position, "now."

Biting his lip, the teen obeyed, tossing what was left of his clothes to the side. Buck naked before this man once again, he waited for the inevitable. Within seconds pressurized water struck him, bruising and cleaning him at the same time. He didn't stay still, he never could. For nearly five minutes he writhed against the current, crying out and trying to fight it on instinct, even though he knew Slade's aim was perfect and there was no escape. And like all those times before, ever since that Christmas day this torture started, he eventually fell to the ground, pressed against the wall for support and huddled over for warmth. Though they had gone south, it was still a cold winter's night. And he was sopping wet.

Curled into a fetal position, his back turned to his master, Dick sobbed into his hands, shaking uncontrollably. His stomach turned in knots, his head hurt from his thoughts and concussion, and every part of him ached from the constant physical training. And he knew it would only get worse. He had done everything the man demanded (grudgingly) and yet he was still punished. He hardly mouthed off anymore, especially since his comments usually rewarded him this kind of treatment. But even when he was good and obedient he was punished! He was hurt and covered in more wounds than he had most his life (that time with Two-Face being the only acceptation). This man… his master… was a monster. He'd be throwing him into that prison again any minute now.

When a towel covered hand rested on his back, he flinched on instinct. Had Wintergreen felt pity for him at last and gone against his friend's wishes? He dared not look, but other than flinching at the man's touch, he didn't resist as someone toweled him off and started adding bandages to his back.

"You need to be aware of your surroundings Richard." Slade's voice so close to his head made him jerk around in alarm. _He_ was helping him? Running the towel over his hair then taking another piece of plaster to his face, he continued his lecture, keeping his voice even. "None of these injuries would have happened if you paid more attention and kept at an even pace. You want to see your path clearly, you make it here by sunset. Do not make that mistake again."

Dick just gaped at him, disbelief and terror trying to take control of his face. Slade… his monster… was giving him advice? He almost sounded like…

Partway through bandaging his hand and wrist, the teenager jerked away from him, horrified. He pressed his back against the wall, staring wide eyed at his captor and breathing hard at the thought that just crossed his mind. They were nothing alike. Nothing! The way the guy's eye steeled when he saw the boy's reaction was proof of that. _His_ temples didn't pulse like that when _he_ was upset with him, and _he_ could always look him in the eyes. This man didn't, not really. He only glanced at them then took looks all over him, analyzing every move he made critically.

"Is that how you want to learn from this apprentice? Fine." Slade grabbed his arm again roughly and pulled him to his feet towards the SHU door. Dick pulled away from it and him by instinct, driving his feet into the ground. He knew this was coming, knew this would happen, but couldn't stop himself from fighting.

"No! Stop! Master please!"

But his pleas fell on deaf ears as he was thrown into the small, cold chamber. No light, no padding, no warmth. No hope. All he could do was roll with the throw to dull the impact and stare at the doorway, his only way out. Slade glared at him coldly, disappointed. "You need to accept your fate Richard. That's the only way you'll improve. Accept our fate and then everything will fall into place."

"Master no!" '_Not again! Not alone!_' Terror gripped his heart.

"This is for your own good."

And with that the door locked shut, taking away the light and any hope of freedom. Dick lunged for the door, pounding at it and screaming for help. Maybe Wintergreen would show pity and let him out. Maybe Superman would fly overhead on his way to some crisis or another and find them! Maybe fairies would see him as one of their own and take him away! As his cries to be let out of that impossible cell diminished, crazy escape theories flew through his mind, each more unlikely than the next. The pounding on the door became weaker and weaker, and tears strangled his voice as he slid back to the floor.

"I'll be good… I promise I'll be good… please… just let me out… don't leave me alone… don't leave me…" '_I'm sorry. G-d I'm so sorry. Please forgive me. Don't hurt them. Don't leave me alone. I'm sorry Bruce, I'm so sorry._' Crumbling in the dark, the boy curled in on himself and cried his heart out, shivering in the cold stone room, alone.

* * *

Eight weeks. Bruce couldn't sleep. Not that it was surprising really. Looking over the note Dick had left behind in that gas station in Smallville, he felt like he should be seeing something, but couldn't figure out what. Half of the page was in black and the other half orange, all ink. There was even a center crease dividing the two sides to ensure he wrote it right. And 'Cass' had an extra 'S'. Black, orange, 'S', half one color and half another. There was a message there, but what?

There was an 'S' earlier in the case too. When Dick left those rings on their chain on his clothes, he made it look like an 'S', a ring at either end of the letter. It told the detective one thing. He knew who his kidnapper was from the beginning, and something about the letter 'S' was involved.

Why did the message have to be so cryptic? The man sighed and looked over the possible kidnappers he'd compiled and the ones he knocked off the list. Superman, Wonder Woman, and Martian Manhunter spent the past week checking on the League of Assassins and the League of Shadows, despite his assurances they had nothing to do with this. Ra's had no interest in Dick, ever. If it weren't for Bruce's fondness for him in particular, he would have killed him years ago. Besides, this was a kidnapping still contained in the US, through Kansas of all things. Dick would have used another sign if it were that madman anyway.

Other possible 'S' related suspects were being knocked off the list slowly, but it was hard to distinguish who could have or would have motive. So far every 'S' related villain and socialite were accounted for, at least in Gotham.

Orange and Black. Black and orange. Half and half. That part of the clue still eluded him. Why those colors? Why half and half? For a moment he thought of Scarecrow, but Crane was in Arkham the entire time. The suspects were really winding him down.

"Your report?"

"How did you even—" Superman gaped at the exhausted insomniac at the large computer, wondering when he knew he came in.

Bruce just gave him an are-you-really-that-dumb? glare before rubbing his eyes. "Are you satisfied with what you learned from Ra's and his men?"

The man of steel looked away, grumbling to himself. "Not really, but he wasn't lying. They don't have him. Don't even care if he's alive or dead. He did say that if you didn't 'prove capable of protecting even one of your charges, then you are not suited to raise his grandson'. I think he's waiting to see what you do next or if we can find Dick at all. If he's not satisfied—"

"He and Talia will reclaim Damian, I know." He already received a threatening letter from his Ex-Fiancé saying so. Apparently they were letting him raise Damian until he had learned all his father could teach him or until Bruce proved to be incapable of grooming an appropriate heir for their empire. "We have until summer before they make their move against us."

"I still think they know where he is or who has him," his friend reiterated. "Ra's seemed to think it was funny that you didn't know, but wouldn't tell."

"Despite popular belief, I don't know everything." He looked back to his computer, trying to make some connections before attempting to go to bed once again. "I just usually know where and how to look."

"Do you know your baby's crying for you right now?"

Bruce looked once at Superman before near leaping out of his chair and darting back into the manor above. His friend shook his head sadly as he watched him leave. Looking for one kid, watching over four others, the former dark knight was falling apart. The man really needed something, anything, just to rest for a few hours. But as much as he'd like to take over the man's duties for a bit, Bruce never let anyone do his job, ever.

Question was, if he kept going at the rate he was, would he be able to do anything for any of his children soon?

* * *

A/N: See?! Trees are dangerous... =P yeah, reference to an old fic of mine. So Slade's training Dick in a mountainous/tree filled part of northern Mexico at an abandoned military outpost. Does it really exist? Who cares! The SHU is an actual solitary confinement term, right next to cooler. They were used as punishment for unruly inmates. POWs and criminals have been in them. there's a lot of debate about them and what they can do to people's minds, whether it's cruel and unusual punishment or not. I think for Dick it would hurt him a lot. he's such a social butterfly he really needs people. As others have noted, he's not that hands on with his family as he could be. This will change that. =] As for the rest of Slade's training/conditioning with the hose and stuff, it's a way to break him down without physically hurting him too much. He's trying to make Dick less stubborn at the moment, offering kindness if he'll just let him. No, he's not a pervy pedo here, just a method of breaking down prisoners during wars include forced nudity. Could explain more but... I digress.

As for Bruce's end of things, he's becoming a real insomniac. He's analyzing the note (you guys had some good ideas, but Dick didn't have enough time to do any of them) and breaking down possible perps. Ra's is aware of what's going on and is just watching to see if Bruce still has the skills he admires in him. This also kinda explains why his people haven't gone after Dami yet. Fun times.

Well, the pie is calling. ^^V


	59. Sacrifice-11-Search Contributions

Well not everyone's in the loop here, and sometimes it backfires. Brief scene with Selina (man I wish I had more scenes with her!) and Dickybird officially gets a new name. Enjoy!

Dick-16/17 Jason-13 Cass-11/12 Tim-9 Damian-3

* * *

**Sacrifice**

_11 – Search Contributions_

Dick just stared blankly off into the darkness, letting his misery seep into the stones around him. Too exhausted to resist, no will to fight. He knew he was breaking, but he didn't know what else to do. His treatment was getting worse when he wasn't training. He was treated well then, as well as a soldier in training that is. But whenever his master was displeased…

Closing his eyes for a moment, he searched his memories for something to warm him inside. The darkness encouraged images of the batcave in his mind, and his happiest of late involved everyone wearing Bruce's cowls and just hanging out, imitating the mysterious Batman. Damian looked so cute as a miniature dark knight and his other siblings seemed to walk with ease in the Kevlar and Nomex capes while he felt it threw off his balance. Bruce paraded in just the cape and cowl as well, and they got Superman to wear it too. He still had that snapshot. Even sent it as a mysterious email to Barry's nephew for kicks. Wound up on several League fan websites.

Proof Batman still existed, and was friends with Superman.

Bruce begrudgingly let it go, after the third time it was put on the websites. It wasn't a bad picture anyway. And it always made people smile. '_Maybe we can make a SuperBat doll sometime,_' he thought lazily. It was a good distraction if only for a moment.

His thoughts were broken though when the door opened and fresh clothes were tossed onto him. A noonday light poured into the room, barely bearable with Slade's shadow in the doorway. "Get dressed Renegade. You have drills after you've eaten."

'_Renegade?_' Dick dumbly nodded, not saying a thing as he got dressed and left the dark cooler. A new name was worth the trade of open skies, clothes, and the promise of food.

* * *

Selina sipped her midday coffee at the nice little café she found in Ivy Town. A college town with only one hero and he wasn't much. Her search for answers about those cellphones led her there. One snitch she managed to corner in Star said the buyer for the burners' friend mentioned it in passing, getting directions really. This was their next stop. It was the one thing she had solid to go by so far, and confirming to Bruce this was a two man operation was a major leap for them. It had been well over two months since Dick's disappearance and other than a single sign the boy was alive a month ago, they really didn't have anything else to go by.

Two guys, one people were scared to talk about while the other seemed to be okay. Possibly a civilian friend. They took burner phones, scattered them in deposit boxes across the US with preprogramed patterns to hide their location, and then went to Ivy. What for, she didn't know. Other than the college, there really wasn't much to this place. It'd take her a while to get into the darker circles of this place (probably all drug dealers or small timers considering who lived there), but once she was in, they'd find out more about Mr. Napper's plans.

Problem was keeping busy until nightfall. College towns…

* * *

Jason tried to act like a cool cucumber while he waited in police holding. Cool for a thirteen year old who really should be in class right then that is. He didn't break the law per say, just wasn't where he was supposed to be. And ended up walking into a sting operation on accident. At least he wasn't being charged. He really didn't want a juvie record.

"You know," Bruce started as he came into view, a contained frustration in his face, "the call I was expecting about you was supposed to be from your school principal, not a police lieutenant."

"Seriously? You were expecting me to get into trouble?" Jason rolled his eyes, shaking his head. No wonder Dick and he fought so much. No trust.

"You do have a tendency to act out." He sighed heavily, making his point. "I was expecting the things said at school to eventually make you so mad you'd lash out and break a few bones. Suspension for a week, probation for a month, a few lawsuits…" The man shook his head smirking slightly. "Frankly, ditching school and ending up in Crime Alley during a sting operation wasn't anywhere near my expectations. And a much better result than I first anticipated."

A cop came forward, unlocking the cell but jerked back in surprise when Bruce Wayne strode in and sat by his son instead of just taking him way. Even the trouble maker was surprised by his father's actions. "At least I don't have to call a lawyer. Thank you for that."

"You're welcome, and don't count me out on those fights." He grinned impishly, hiding his anxiety for the punishment and lecture he was inevitably going to get. "They just haven't caught me yet."

"Should I be looking for bodies?"

"Nah, not yet. Maybe next week?" He gave a sheepish smile to him, hoping to keep the conversation as light as possible. Didn't help that someone else's parents had just crossed their sight, enraged they were at the precinct as well. Jason looked down and away guiltily as an older teenage boy was dragged by his ear by them, wincing and begging for mercy as they noisily made it past them. Lots of angry yelling about responsibility, ditching, shaming the family, recklessness, followed in their wake.

"I was looking for my friend!" the teen objected in his defense.

"Real friends wouldn't need to be found!"

"You don't know anything about him!"

"Travis! That boy is nothing but a disreputable, good for nothing, runa—"

"Dick isn't a runaway!" That exclamation as he was dragged out the door caught Bruce's full attention. "He wouldn't abandon his friends! He wouldn't leave—"

The door shut behind them, stopping all sound. The CEO looked at the door for a moment, things clicking in place. Pointing at the door, "Who was that?"

"Travis Murdock. One of Dick's friends." The boy kept his eyes on the floor, controlling his voice best he could. His scheme was up.

"Were the two of you together?" Jason nodded mutely. "What were you doing? You wouldn't ditch school to hang out in Crime Alley and I don't think the Murdocks would ever go there." The teen shifted in his seat a bit not looking at him. Bruce's eyes narrowed slightly. "Jason…"

"We were looking for Dick." He pulled his knees under his chin and held onto his legs, still looking at the floor. "We've been looking for any sign of him on the streets for weeks, ditching two classes at a time and making it back before anyone was the wiser. We haven't had much luck."

The man looked over his son, realizing this was partly his fault. Bruce hadn't talked about what he had learned about Dick's case lately. Rather, he kept all the information under lock and key. He didn't want to raise any more false hopes. Telling them there was progress about all the encouragement he gave his family. He really hated disappointing his children, and for the most part telling Damian he'd be back soon and the others that he would get him back was all they needed. But in Jason's case it seemed to have backfired.

"You wouldn't." Jason jerked around to look at his dad, surprise in his eyes. The man gave him a knowing look before clapping his back. "Let's get to the car. Alfred and Damian can't wait forever and he's worried about you too."

The teen nodded emphatically, leaping out of his seat and near running out the door in order to hear more. Thankfully Bruce had taken care of all the paperwork before seeing his boy, so only the only thing stopping them from leaving were the police caught somewhere between them and the door. A teenager running out of holding didn't normally mean anything good, so of course they reacted badly. One tried to grab him only to be evaded and tripped over his own feet.

The man shook his head, following quickly. "Jason, slow down! They'll think you're a fugitive!"

"Hurry up! I want dinner!" That short banter calmed the cops down, getting out of the way if they were paying attention. And in no time the duo were outside, nearly to the car waiting for them. Jason turned to face his dad before entering, glaring slightly. "What do you mean by 'I wouldn't'? Do you know something?"

"Quite a bit. Inside." He guided the teen into the vehicle, buckling himself in seconds after before nodding to Alfred. "Back to the office I think. I'll call the school and tell them you had a bout of food poisoning and that you wandered away to Leslie's for treatment in a dazed state. That'll take care of them."

"If you insist sir." Alfred's slight disapproval for the idea was evident in his tone as he turned the car back on and took off to rejoin traffic.

"So I'm not in trouble?" His jaw nearly dropped at the concept. Jason never got away with breaking school rules before, if he was caught.

"You're still in trouble," Bruce insisted, "but you're still going to school. The last thing we need is rumors of you being a juvenile delinquent. It'll only make those accusations people make more pliable. You're cleaning the cave, no questions. And don't even think about touching the cars. I learned from last time."

"Fine fine." The white locked youth waved it off, more eager to hear something else. Yes he was in trouble, probably grounded, but other things were far more important than that. "So what do you know? Where's Dick? What can I tell people?"

"You can't tell them anything." Before the boy could object, his father raised a hand to silence him. "We only have conjectures off of a few pieces of evidence, that's all. And none of it is in the police or FBI's hands. Saying anything now when all our clues were found in obscure places by the League would only tip off whoever took him.

"What we do know is that Dick is alive. He was kidnapped by an influential man with power in the underworld. Selina still can't get a name. She confirmed there's an accomplice though, likely traveling with them. They're mobile for the most part, having gone through Smallville in a U-Haul. That's where Dick left us proof of life, scratching his R into a bathroom stall door."

Jason laughed, some relief coming to his face. That was such a Dick thing to do. He saw a locker with that R in it at school and inside a couple stalls at school. The guy left his mark when he could. Bruce didn't know about that habit, at least until now. The man's lips twitched as well. "He left a small note there as well, but it was well hidden and didn't give out any details, probably in case it was discovered by his captor. I'll show it to you when we get home. Maybe you'll see something I didn't. I'll even let you listen to the testimonial of the clerk who saw him."

"When was this?"

"About a month ago."

"Why didn't you tell us?!" If they weren't in a car, Jason would have leapt to his feet, enraged. They'd waited near two months for anything, and now he was telling him they had proof Dick was alive for nearly half that time?

"Because it hasn't led us anywhere yet and the note was addressed to Cassandra. A birthday note." Bruce's firm voice and face told the boy to settle back down. Damian was startled from his nap in the car and was starting to fuss. He may not understand everything that's happening around him, but he could tell when others were angry, and that upset him. He took a deep breath before continuing, keeping his voice level. "Once we've deciphered whatever clue Dick left behind, I'll give it to her. I'll explain everything once I have something concrete and can promise his return. You know how badly Tim is handling this. He'll expect an immediate rescue after every little bit of information, some grand escape, but I can't give him that. I can't even promise it to myself. Better to hold back and come forward with everything once we have something concrete.

"Jason," he looked into his second eldest son's eyes, trying to show his own tortured feelings over this whole fiasco as he spoke, "we're doing all we can. The League's constantly on alert. After finding the etching, Flash checked every public stall in Central and Keystone on the off chance of there being another one. Superman did the same in Metropolis. Everyone's looking."

"Then why haven't they found him?!" The Justice League could do anything. Batman was the world's greatest detective. And yet Dick was still missing. The faith he had in heroes was starting to diminish. "Where is he?! Why are they still fighting aliens and giant robots and talking gorillas when he's not here?!"

Bruce massaged his brow, exhaustion adding to the tension headache he kept having. A finger brushed under his eye, removing the concealer he used to hide his physical exhaustion. "Because the world keeps turning and the criminals keep scheming. No matter who's missing in our personal lives. Dick knew this. Back when you were in shock he stepped up and did part of my job for me. He and Kent reminded me over and over again that just because something bad happened to someone I cared about doesn't stop bad things from happening to others. And the League has a duty to the world."

"Keep calm and carry on," Alfred quoted from the driver's seat.

"Exactly. Jason," he leaned forward, looking tiredly into his son's eyes. Damian had quieted and the teen was holding back his raging emotions. He could tell how worn his father was from all of this. "I didn't tell you because I knew you and the others would want what we can't deliver, not yet at least. Despite appearances, we're all mortals who make mistakes and can't grant wishes. We're all investigating from different angles but have other things to do in the meantime. Looking at the case with fresh eyes helps bring clues into a clearer light, but it takes time.

"One false step and we may not ever see him again." He let those words hang in the air and seep into the teenager's head. Jason had to know what was at risk. He could tell from the boy's expression that he was seeing how much of a toll it was taking on his old man. "Do you see why I haven't said anything until now?"

Slowly the teen nodded, some guilt appearing on his face. He looked down and away, frowning to himself. His father sighed heavily. "I'll let you look over everything we have, but until we have a name or a location or even a route he was taken down, I don't want you telling anyone anything. Finding those cameras tipped off the kidnappers already. I don't want them to get spooked any more unless we can herd them to friendly territory. Understood?"

Again the boy nodded, looking further away. As good as it was to be part of a secret and the investigation, he really didn't like how this was going. And his dad could tell. "Jason…"

"I get it, I really do." He leaned his head against the cool glass, watching traffic. "I just don't like it."

"Neither do I." Bruce leaned back in his seat, exhausted and worn, but unable to rest. Alfred had tried to slip him sleeping pills and Jasmine teas to get him to sleep. Neither had worked. At least not to the point where he could actually rest. He doubted that would come until things were settled. "But it's necessary, for now."

"So's a two-by-four," Jason murmured lowly, talking to himself.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

The man decided to let it slight, rubbing his eyes again. It was hard to keep them open. "I'll cover for you this one time, but no more ditching. And I don't want to hear from the principal about fights or missing classes, is that clear?"

"Mhm." The teen kept looking out the window, lost in thought. His brother was missing, his dad was exhausted from searching, they only had so much, and the other three weren't handling it well. Tim was taking it the hardest due to his age and that Dick was his favorite brother. Hell, he was everyone's favorite! Even his. Well, Cass liked Jason and Tim probably a little more, but Dick was clearly what kept his family together for so long. If Damian wasn't three and knew what had happened, he'd be balling his eyes out. In the end they all needed him.

Part of him wondered if his dad was this worn out when Joker…

"Jason, please." The man regained his attention, looking straight into his jade eyes. "Promise me you'll stop ditching classes and you won't start fights."

"Alright, I'll stop ditching. You won't hear anything from the principal, you or Alfred." His father nodded, satisfied. Man he looked tired. Thinking back a year, Jason recalled how he looked right after he recovered from his shocked state. Worn more emotionally than physically. He'd be jealous if the circumstances weren't so far different. But now he was in the same position Dick was back then. How had that guy handled it?

* * *

A/N: Jason's 2by4 comment was him thinking about hitting Bruce over the head and knocking him out for a few hours. B's really taking this a little too hard. Don't worry, someone will make sure he gets real sleep soon, an old friend of his with a magical touch. SO Jason's stepping up and trying to be a detective. He thought if he and one of Dick's friends (he was mentioned in Stalker) poked around the Gotham underground, they'd hear something. Dick is a high profile kidnapping after all, someone had to be talking. At least we know one of Dick's buddies are real and worried about him. and I guess here kinda starts Jay's 'Robin' days. =P and he has no idea how to handle it.

Selina's investigating thefts, and honestly, as smart as Slade may be, I don't think he made those nanoscopic probes. Lead expert would be Ray Palmer of Ivy Town, and the reason will be made clear later on. This is important all in all, but sadly unable to expand on this here. *sigh*

Yes, I made Dick Renegade. His mask will be the same as Renegade's too, which will unintentionally give him pulled back spiky hair. =P He's near the breaking point like Slade wants, but what happens after he breaks may not be what he wants. *evil laugh* Also his little 'hallucination' is actually a trick I made for when I was confined with scenarios I didn't want to be in (no not isolation, mostly just boring or intimidating lectures I didn't need). He put his mind somewhere else. It's a reference to 'Battle of the Cowls', and tells you what happened to that photo at the end. Wally now has it and still doesn't now how on earth he got it. Barry loves it.

Anywho, back to your regularly scheduled saturday. Laundry calls me.


	60. Sacrifice-12-Much Wanted Dreams

Okay, this part is all fluff, and probably isn't necessary, but I really liked it and felt it was important for them. all of them. and say goodbye to Wintergreen! He doesn't really have a part in the story but after this chapter you won't see him again. Enjoy!

Dick-16/17 Jason-13 Cass-11/12 Tim-9 Damian-3

* * *

**Sacrifice**

_12 – Much Wanted Dreams_

Everything hurt. Inside and out. Hot and cold, antsy and tired, and everything blurred together. His head and stomach kept competing for who was worse off. It didn't really matter who won. Either way he lost. Voices all around him told him to relax, get up, rest, smile, play with him, get ready for practice, eat something, don't forget his coat, slow down… so many voices. He swore he saw his long dead parents at least twice, telling him to hold strong or to just let the pain take over and join them. So many voices…

How long had he been sick? Felt like days. But there was some advantage to being sick. For once he wasn't being punished or threatened for not completing something. Yes his body was in agony and he couldn't think straight, but he was in a warm, secure bed and he knew no one would make him leave it until he was well again.

Dick heard Slade and Wintergreen talking earlier, something about medicine and having to leave for a few hours. He didn't quite understand everything that was said as his ears started ringing part way through the discussion, but he knew his captor was going to be gone for a bit. If only he wasn't so weak and delirious from the infection he gained. Well, he thought it was an infection. Wintergreen said something about changes in altitude, stress, physical exertion, possibly food poisoning… either way he was sick, bed ridden even. Even if Deathstroke was going to be gone for a while and left the trigger behind, he was in no condition to search for it and escape.

Besides, he was in the middle of nowhere, maybe Mexico. Where was he going to run? He couldn't run fast enough or far enough from that man to save himself, let alone his family.

His family…

Tears ran down his face as he remembered them. He could vaguely remember talking to memories of them, hallucinations even. Damian was the one putting damp rags on his forehead while Jason sat on his stomach. Something about Tim's voice was off and Cass had run around in a pink tutu, laughing like the Joker. And a stoic Alfred painted neon orange had offered him some worms. Bruce and his parents were talking about coffins and gravestones once too. And those weren't even half of them, just the interesting ones he remembered. They were always easier to latch on to.

Lying on his back again, Dick tried to stem the flowing tears. They weren't helping his headache and he really couldn't lose any more water. He blinked a little slower, letting his vision blur a little more, only to settle on an image coming into focus next to him. "Bruce?"

"Dick!" A worn out Bruce Wayne locked eyes with his, taking him in. The man looked caught somewhere between elation and relief, and horrified worry. He swiftly came to his side, sitting on the side of the bed as a string of question came from his lips. "What happened to you? Are you alright? How are they treating you? Please! Tell me what's going on!"

The ill teen just blinked at him for a minute before smiling and laughing a little. Bruce could be such a mother hen! A couple tears rolled down his cheeks, so happy to hear his voice again. "Wow… you sound so real."

"I am real." The man placed a hand on the boy's head, trying to brush back his bangs and feel his temperature, but nothing happened. He hadn't added any weight to the bed either. As much as Dick wanted him to be real, he knew he couldn't be. But that didn't matter. Bruce came for him and he was worried. He seemed even sadder with his hand on the lad's head, pained he could do nothing.

But the teenager laughed weakly, still crying a bit. His stomach was even relaxing a little thanks to this visit. "I'm sick and in the middle of nowhere. Last time you were here, so were my parents."

Bruce sighed heavily, brushing his hand over the boy's face affectionately. "I guess so. You look like hell. Where are you? We're looking everywhere for you."

At this he burst into guilty tears, making his long time father figure lean forward in worry. He tried to reach out and hold him, but his hand passed through the boy. All he could do was watch in agony. Dick whimpered as he tried to talk. "I don't know anymore! I… I tried to keep track, but… I lost track after Mexico!"

"Mexico?" The boy nodded weakly, barely able to compose a thought. He really did try. On those rare occasions he sat in front and could see the scenery he tried to memorize what kinds of license plates went past them. The most frequently seen ones told him what state he was in, but it wasn't very often that he saw a town sign. "Through Kansas?"

"You saw it?" The mark he left in that Smallville stall, his circled R. A spark of hope filled his chest.

"I have the door with me." Bruce tried to give him a reassuring smile. "We got your note too. Dick, who took you? Who started all this? Tell me who's keeping you here."

Dick's eyes widened, terrified at the question, before a new wave of tears started. "I can't… I can't… He'll kill them! He'll kill… anyone I talk to. I can't… I don't want them hurt… he'll hurt them… he hurt her… he'll hurt them! Can't let that happen. Can't let him kill—"

"Shh…" Seeing his terror, the man put his hands on his boy's, trying to comfort him. But again his hands passed through his, causing the hallucination more pain. He couldn't help. "It's alright Dick, just calm down. No one's getting hurt here. Everything's fine. Everyone's safe."

"No one's safe." The teen covered his eyes with his hands, hating his weakness and his tears. "Not unless I stay with him. I stay, I obey, they'll be safe. But if I stay…" Tears and sobs took over him again, gaining more worry from the espier before him.

"He's going to make me kill."

The words hung in the air between them, freezing the room. Dick would have seen the horror on Bruce's face if he didn't hold onto his eyes and head harder. "He… He wants me to be like him! He wants to make me… a… a killer! Training me… every day! Taught me… a gun… I don't want to! I want to go home!"

He let go of his head, no longer fighting his tears as he desperately looked into his adoptive father's face. "I wanna go home! Bruce you gotta get me home! You've gotta save them! He'll hurt them if I leave! He'll hurt everyone! And it'll be my fault! It's all my fault! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

"Dick…"

"It's all my fault. You told me not to and I did anyway. I'm sorry! Don't hate me! Please don't hate me!"

"Dick!" Desperately the man raised his voice to get his attention. "There is nothing to be sorry for! This isn't your fault!"

"But it is!" It burned inside him, the knowledge that he did this to himself. "If I hadn't shown off… If I had behaved… They wouldn't be in danger if I was good and did what you said. You were right. I was such a brat! If I just listened to you and been good, none of this would have happened! They're in danger because of me! I let you down Bruce. I'm sorry! I'm so sorry… I'm such a bad boy. A royal pain in the ass. I'm sorry Bruce… I'm sorry…"

"That's enough." Stern correction entered the man's voice, cutting off all argument like it normally did. Now he had his son's attention. They were looking straight into each other's eyes, one's softening as the other's begged for comfort and security. Dick was hurting so much, and not just because of the fever. "It doesn't matter whose fault it is or if this could have been prevented. What matters now is correcting it. You can explain your theories and doubts after I get you home. And you will come home, I swear it. We will find you and we will save you. We'll save everyone. But I need you to stay strong and calm down. Nothing can be achieved if you lose your head like this. Like Alfred keeps telling us lately, 'keep calm and carry on'."

"I rather call Batman." The automatic attempt at humor made his father smile slightly.

"Not Superman?"

"Clark is cool," he murmured, "But he's not you." The boy shifted in the bed trying to get closer to him. "You promise? You're going to save them? You'll stop him and find me? Before he makes me kill?"

"I promise, I will find you. I'll take care of everything."

"You're not mad at me?" Some comfort floated into his chest, taking away the guilt and stress he'd been feeling. It was good to hear these words.

Bruce shook his head. "I'm not mad. Just worried and concerned."

"You don't hate me?" Dick whimpered slightly, praying for the one thing that'll help him through this, at least until he could be brought home.

"Never. I love you more than you could possibly imagine. We all do, and nothing that man does is going to change that." Gently he brushed his hand over the boy's cheek, and he could almost feel it, taking comfort in the words and the contact. The darkness inside the boy lessened as he looked up lovingly at his second father. A smile returned to his lips, tears finally subsiding. "You mean the world to us, all of us. Jason's ditched school to find you, Tim started a fight because someone insulted you, and I've had to use a grapple to retrieve Damian from that alcove of his. Cass and Alfred seem to be holding it together, but you know how they are. They're better at hiding their feelings, and keeping busy. Your sister's even teaching Tim how to fight."

"Really?" Dick sunk deeper into the bed, tension leaving him as he heard the reports on his family. He didn't need to know how Bruce was handling it. Just looking at his face and seeing how much weight and sleep he lost told him enough. He fared better when Jason was hurt.

The man nodded, giving him a sad gentle smile, glad his boy was calming down. "Really. When you come back, he'll want to show you everything he's learned. May even want you to help him with his acrobatics."

"I'd like that."

"I know." He kept running a hand over his child's face in a soothing motion. "Jason's helping with the case now. Maybe he'll be able to decipher that cryptic clue you left us in Smallville. Dick, couldn't you tell us who took you? Just something to narrow down the search, to find you faster."

The lad hesitated, tensing from his slowly relaxing state. He swallowed and looked down, guilty. "I… I can't… Bruce he's evil. He's killed so many and no one's caught him and—"

"Shh…" Seeing his growing fear after calming down, his father tried to change tactics. "Okay, you don't have to tell me."

"He'll kill them if I talk," Dick murmured, trying to calm his heart again. Vaguely he could recall another time when he had a fever and Bruce had done this. He didn't leave his side until he was in the clear. "He'll press the button and that'll be the end of it."

"Button?" His boy nodded. "Have you tried taking it?"

Again he nodded and frowned. "Dislocated my shoulder one time trying. He has fakes. I'm not a good pickpocket like Jason or Selina."

"Or Tim at the rate he's going." That gained a short laugh, making the man smile slightly. "Never thought it'd be a useful thing to teach you before. Should have known better."

"He's fast," Dick murmured, his body relaxing again despite talking about the person he hated and feared most. "Not Flash fast, but fast. Strong too. We're using military bases and outposts, all abandoned and isolated. When we're not moving that is. We've been here a while though. Don't know when we're moving again."

"Can you make a sign so we can find you from above?"

He shook his head weakly. "He'll notice. He sees everything. I think he's psychic, like you."

Bruce couldn't help but roll his eyes. "I'm not psychic."

"Could have fooled me." The little joke made the boy smile. It was so good to see him, to hear his voice. Bruce's reassurances and gentle coaxing was exactly what he needed and wanted most. He could be stern and overly protective, but deep down the man cared more than anyone he ever knew. And just knowing that and hearing him now was enough. "You always knew when I was trying to sneak up on you."

"They're called peripherals. And you have a tendency to giggle." That won a giggle from the teen, making him shake his head. "Anything else you can tell me about him or his accomplice?"

"The other guy isn't Alfred." Dick started to blink drowsily, feeling at ease enough to let down his defenses and start to drift. His head still hurt but none of it mattered. Bruce was there and everything would be alright. "You really are psychic. How did you—"

"It's a two man job keeping you still for more than five minutes." That won him a laugh which quickly turned into a coughing fit. Again the man shifted forward to help him, but his hand passed through. He wasn't really there and it pained him. "Breathe easy. Slow and long. Don't hold it for any more than two counts. And—"

The teen snickered again as he rested back into the sweaty pillow under his head. "Mother hen. It's just some sort of altitude, stress, exertion sickness. Maybe infection, but they doubt it."

"Might be." He eyed the bandage peeking out from under Dick's shirt, frowning. "Dick, are they hurting you?"

The teen bit his mouth closed and nodded slowly. A stony threatening look appeared on the man's face, his rage barely contained as his son continued. "Mostly training accidents. He shows me different moves and when I fail to mimic them… he performs it on me. Not-Alfred just cooks and takes care of normal things. Sometimes I help."

"Training? He's training you." Dick nodded as Bruce looked over him again, looking for something. "Why?"

"He wants an apprentice. And apparently I fit the bill. And he wouldn't listen when I said to find someone else." He shifted in the bed again, one arm moving under the covers for release. It tried to hold onto the man's hand near his face but couldn't hold onto anything. Tears started to return to his eyes, aching to be held. "Bruce, when can I come home?"

"Soon Dick. Soon." A similar look came to the man's eyes. So close, but not close enough. Pain flashed in his eyes as he looked at his boy. "Dick, I've been meaning to talk to you about—"

The door not too far off opened, allowing Wintergreen entrance. It was time to change the water. Dick saw him and groaned, not really wanting any kind of interruption. "Oh no. Not you…"

Confused and caught off guard, Bruce reflexively turned to see who had just arrived, only to start fading away. Dick saw this and started screaming, loneliness filling him once again as he near leapt out of his bed reaching for where the espier was. "NO! DON'T GO! BRUCE DON'T GO! BRUCE!"

But his cries did nothing except confuse the old man coming towards him with a bowl of iced water. Before his eyes his greatest protector had vanished. Horrified he trembled and gaped at the open air, shaking as the emptiness and vulnerability returned to him, maybe worse than before. He was right there! His second father was right there in front of him and now he was gone.

All because someone had walked in.

"Richard?"

All at once everything exploded inside the boy. A fiery, vengeful glare fell on the bystander, and Dick started throwing everything in sight at him. "YOU DID THIS! YOU MADE HIM GO AWAY! BRING HIM BACK! BRING HIM BACK!"

"Richard!" Wintergreen was bombarded with pillows, an old water bowl, rags, and every throwable object within arm's length from the bed. The two bowls drenched him in seconds and he was forced to raise his arms to block the harder objects. Between his arms he could barely make out the feverish, enraged teen, still yelling at him.

"BRING HIM BACK! BRING BRUCE BACK! WHY DID YOU MAKE HIM LEAVE?! I WANT HIM BACK! WHY DID YOU HAVE TO COME IN?! GET OUT! GET OUT!"

Seeing his purpose for entering was foiled and Dick wouldn't be handled at the moment, sick or not, Wintergreen retreated back to the doorway where Slade was returning. They both saw Dick curl up face down on the bed, crying and howling for Bruce to come back. The model for misery. The two men exchanged looks as he sobbed more.

"Bruce please! Come back! Please come back! Don't leave me… Please don't leave me… I'll be good, I promise. Just come back… Don't leave me with him… Please come back, please!"

Someone grabbed his arm roughly, jerking his attention around to see who was there. Had his pleas worked? Instead of seeing who he wanted, he got the opposite. Slade gave him a stoic look, roughly holding his arm, and a needle. His eyes widened dangerously and he tried to pull away, but his burst of energy was spent and all he could do was wriggle. "No! Not you! Let me go! I won't want you! Go away! What are you doing?! AHH!"

The needle pierced his skin and fresh tears coursed down his face. The man hadn't bothered to sanitize the spot or pick one that'd hurt less. The chemicals burned as they went into his body, but at least his master had let him go, flopping back onto the bed weakly. His energy was far past spent.

Slade placed the empty syringe on a nearby table calmly. "Penicillin. Normally you would have received it in a less painful method, but considering how little you trust me, this was the only way to ensure your recovery." He looked over the exhausted teen on the bed, sweaty and crying weakly. He even hiccupped between tears like a child. The assassin shook his head as he saw the boy shake from his illness. He needed to rest.

Slowly he lifted the boy from the bed, taking the wriggling and feeble blows he gave out without batting an eye. One look over to his companion got Wintergreen to remake the bed. Slade held his apprentice to his chest, almost coddling him, in hopes to make him calm down. But like always Dick resisted his touch and pounded away weakly at his shoulder.

"Bring him back… Bring him back… Bring Bruce back…"

The assassin shook his head as he laid the boy back down on the bed, tucking him in tightly. "Must have been a pretty convincing dream."

"Hallucination I'd say."

Dick stopped moving so much, firmly tucked in the bed and shivering weakly because of his fever. He really looked weak and pathetic right then. But he'd get over this soon. Then they would continue his training. Maybe a little slower though. He already progressed a great deal since that Halloween night.

* * *

Back in Wayne Manor, Bruce led Zatanna solemnly back to her car. She looked really disappointed with herself. "I'm really sorry Bruce. I can't locate him and some kind of talisman is making it difficult to even contact him. I'm afraid tonight was a one-time deal."

The CEO shook his head. "You have nothing to be sorry about Zanna. You've done more than you think."

"But he's—"

"You gave me a chance to talk to my son." He gave her a vulnerable smile, sad and thankful. She never saw that look on his face, and she knew him when he was a teenager. "I haven't heard from him in well over two months. And just seeing him again…" He closed his eyes, mentally chiding himself. "I shouldn't have looked away. Maybe I could have—"

"You would only have heard his voice." She sighed heavily, tightening her coat around her. "That's the nature of the spell. You didn't see or hear anything other than him and what he was directly touching. As soon as Dick's attention shifted from you to whoever came in, the spell was bound to break. It was only your strong connection with him that made it possible to communicate in the first place.

"Bruce," Zatanna looked into her old friend's eyes, conveying her sympathies, "I'm really sorry you saw him in that state, but it's also the easiest to reach someone. And a downside is—"

"He's not likely to remember, I know." Bruce ran a hand through his hair, stressed beyond belief. "There was only a slim chance this would have worked either way. But Dick needed to see me just as much as I needed to see him. I just wish…"

"Everyone wishes for more time with the ones they love." Her eyes conveyed how much more time she wanted with her own parents. Currently she was searching for her father, one of Bruce's old teachers. This stop over at his place was mutually beneficial. The detective had given her a solid lead as payment for this. "Are you sure this has helped? You may have scarred him further."

He gave her a sad hint of a smile, nodding once. "Very. I have leads now, and I will find him."

"I hope so." She ducked into her car, ready to go. "When he comes back, I want to meet your boy wonder. Hard to believe you've had eight years with him and I've never seen him."

Bruce smirked, a promise in his eyes. "I'll throw a party. Be careful driving."

The woman smiled and nodded, revving up her engine. "Peels llew thginot Ecurb."

"What?"

"Nothing. Later Bruce." And like that the woman was gone. Bruce watched her go for a while, seeing a good friend from his past leaving him. Her spell gave him much to think about, much more to consider, but most of all it gave her hope. Getting her a lead for Zatara took a couple days, but if it gave him fifteen minutes with his son, it was worth it.

Besides, he had much more to go on now, and he would find him.

* * *

A/N: Yay for a Zatanna cameo. and her spell is to get Bruce to actually rest that night. Fun times. I'm thinking of rewriting that scene later but oh well. the discussion gave Bruce more search parameters, but it will still be a while before they find him. Closer now though. Sad thing is, Dick won't remember this conversation. Fevers and hallucinations will do that to a person. Slade does have a talisman to stop magic users from finding them, guessing that Bruce might use one to find Dick one day. Covers all his bases. also has some kind of anti-psychic field to block them as well. So thorough.

Still, I love this scene! Dick has a total meltdown and no one can do a thing to help! Bruce does what he can and it calms him down until the spell's broken. Had wintergreen not come in, they would have talked for a bit longer and then Dick would have passed out, thinking it was the best dream ever. But... must feed the sadist within.

Starting tomorrow things will speed up. also starting tomorrow I go back to school. Wish me luck!


	61. Sacrifice-13-Body Count

And now it's time to see the Titans! You're gonna get a few looks into what's been going on for them in this world. I've kinda combined the originals with the TV show to make their own history but it should work out. A lot of things are alluded to here that isn't written, yet, so don't think you've missed something. Just wait for it all in the extended.

Dick-16/17 Jason-13 Cass-11/12 Tim-9 Damian-3

* * *

**Sacrifice**

_13 – Body Count_

Roy looked over open cases the League was working on, just browsing really. After Slade disappeared last November, the tower was pretty quiet. The Teen Titans took down his chronotron detonator and hadn't heard from him since. Small timers and trouble makers entertained them on occasion, but second tier villains like Dr. Light got old after a while.

Besides, it's not like he had school or anything. Wally was graduating soon and the others were taking random courses online, if at all. Him? After cutting ties with Ollie he hadn't even thought of college. Sure Dinah would approve, and so would the League (those who gave a hoot), but he wasn't out to impress people anymore. He gave up the fame of being the first 'sidekick' a long time ago. It only gave him trouble. Donna and Wally earned it more.

The only thing positive he had from that title now was access to files the League had. Whoever this mysterious 'B' was Ollie and the rest talked to and got their intel from, he was wickedly good at detective work. But some cases just hadn't been solved yet due to how many there was going on, or were ongoing investigations due to suspicions. And when he was bored, Roy liked to look through what wasn't finished and see if he could beat them to the punch.

Boy would that peeve of Ollie.

After a few minutes his eyes rested on one open case that really twisted his insides. A missing person of interest, Richard J. Grayson. The archer frowned, remembering when this case started. Christmas. That must have really sucked for his family. Thing was, he knew the kid, and his family. Dick (as his family called him) was a friend of his, one he met at those fancy rich parties Ollie dragged him to. Born in the circus, lost his parents to a mobster, adopted into a rich man's house, got a handful of siblings in the process, straight A student and a fairly well known acrobat online. He was practically the prince of Gotham, poster boy even. And for some reason he up and vanished a few days before Christmas.

The FBI agent who first headed the investigation called him a runaway. 'B' though called it a kidnaping and made it a League priority. There was some deal the core League members made that put Gotham on their radar, specifically for kidnappings and psychopaths. He remembered helping take down Joker the previous year when 'B' called in Flash and said to bring back up. KF asked him to help since he was in town and frankly he wasn't too keen on repeating the experience.

Still, thinking of Dickybird ('Jaybird's name for him, another friend of his who happened to be this guy's adopted brother), he couldn't see the guy running off like that. 'B' said kidnapping, and from the files he read and the stories he heard from other Leaguers, the guy was rarely wrong. The League was looking for him, but in the past three months they found little to nothing. There was even a note to look in Mexico for the guy, on abandoned military bases. If Roy wasn't so busy being the normal guy on the Titans, he'd be going down south looking for him too.

Instead all he could do was keep an eye out and tell his team about this guy. Which Gar already did, back in December. A video on youtube took the world by storm when a mock teenage superhero single handedly took down nearly a dozen men holding up a Halloween party. "This guy is so cool!" Beast Boy's fanboy squeal nearly killed their ears, particularly Raven's. He practically flipped when Roy told them he knew him personally. "We should ask him to become a Titan!"

"Somehow I doubt he will," Speedy had said, pouting slightly. To think one of his socialite friends had that good of skills… "He's got a good thing going back in Gotham."

"Still worth a shot," Wonder Girl, their leader, had stated. "He's definitely got the potential, and courage in spades. He'd have to in order to take on those men without any armor. And using dinner plates as weapons? Brilliant."

"Yeah," Cyborg commented, rubbing his chin. "I haven't seen a person that good ever. And I was a star athlete in school. That guy has real potential."

"Doubt his dad would let him though." The archer leaned back in his chair, reminding them he was once one of the elite, like this guy. "Wayne's known for being super protective. His security is top of the line everywhere. I hear he even has tracking devices on all his kids."

"Excuse me," Starfire started, raising her hand, "but please explain. Who is this 'Wayne' and how is he this young man's 'Dad'? I thought those of the same family had same names."

"It's adoption," Raven stated evenly before Roy or Donna could explain it. "When a child's parents die, they can be taken into another's home. Grayson was adopted by Wayne, right?"

"Pretty much," the archer agreed. "Making him legally his father, but he obviously didn't take the guy's name. Some of his other siblings did though. Well, most actually. I think the youngest adoption hyphenated it. Maybe. I'll have to check my facebook."

"What about facebook?" Kid Flash and Aqualad had come in at that point, checking out what they were. KF saw the screen and grinned. "Hey! I saw this! My uncle was laughing his head off when he showed it to me. Said this really ticked 'B' off and now he's being all mopey about it. Something about that kid ruining the rescue."

"Wonder Boy PWN's Cowboys? Is this some sort of surface gimmick?" Garth was still struggling to understand why people on the surface did ridiculous things. "That uniform does not look right for combat."

"Circus brat." Roy got off the couch then and stretched. "And that was Halloween. Well, as good as that guy is, I don't think we should bug him. He's a happy-go-lucky civilian and has no clue what we do all the time. All we would do is corrupt him."

"You say that as if it's a bad thing." Wally grinned at his friend, teasing. The other redhead rolled his eyes behind his mask and started out the room. He couldn't help but laugh though when KF said 'short pants' had some girly legs and Cy pointed out the pixie boots. Roy made a mental note to tease the guy later about the vid if he ever got the chance.

But that chance never came. Before they could meet up again and time could be spared, Dick disappeared. Which brought his mind full circle back to the case file. Seeing that guy's grinning face in the file before him and from his memories, it was hard to not feel some loss. Dick really shouldn't have disappeared. Whoever took him was just asking for trouble.

Too bad he and the other Titans were busy with their usual work to try their hand at finding him. The archer sighed and went to another file. Keeping an eye out was all he could do. Besides, what was the likelihood Dick would be dragged cross country to their city?

* * *

Dick stepped out of the semi, stoic and more interested in getting out of that metal box than in the warehouse port they were disembarking in. He stood at attention like a good soldier about five feet from his exit, just where his master wanted him to be at the moment. It pleased the man to no end when he seemed to finally get with the program.

The burning hate in his eyes that appeared often in flashes when Slade passed by though told him he hadn't quite transformed his way of thinking yet. The boy still had some independence.

Still, there was enough progress, both physical and mental, that warranted this particular amount of freedom. A temporary change of scenery. Slade said it was a 'dry run for the future', a way to 'test his progress'. Apparently some offers were being made to whoever delivered something and the opportunity was too good to pass up. Once the deals were done, they would be returning to Mexico to continue his training.

The one eyed assassin looked over his stoic apprentice, his blue eyes focused on the ground in front of him. "Still upset about that border patrol aren't you Renegade."

Dick bit back the bile from being called that name. Slade never called him 'Richard' these days. Only Wintergreen did, and he stayed behind for when they returned. It was all 'Renegade' and 'Apprentice'. Neither could lift his spirits. "They didn't have to die."

"Actually they did." The assassin moved further into the warehouse, motioning for the boy to follow. He did, obediently and at a safe distance. His jaw clenched as the man continued. "They insisted on seeing what was inside the truck. If they looked inside, they would have held me for questioning and I would have had to kill them anyway. I just saved us some time. Trying to save one of them was a waste of yours."

The acrobat ground his teeth together, clenching his fists. Now was not the time to attack him. He had to control himself, not attack, not defend the memory of those who died. To ensure they received justice, he had to bide his time. Acting out would only reveal his hand.

He had come to realize something in Mexico, something that made his training easier to do. It wasn't long after he was sick there that he realized it, and when it came to him, he was certain beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was on his own. In order to save his family, Slade had to die.

Dick was going to kill, but only the one time. He had a plan, and it had to work. He just didn't know how to carry it out yet. Yet.

Slade smiled coldly at his apprentice before showing him around. "This is my base here in San Francisco. I have safe houses and depositories all throughout the city, but this is home. Memorized those maps yet?"

'_San Francisco?_' The teenager's mind raced as he nodded. Earlier his master had given him maps of a city, no names just buildings and streets. Urban geography. He had to know all of it like the back of his hand before making it there. He had it nearly plastered into his mind before crossing the border. He didn't realize he was memorizing a city he heard about frequently.

It was the home of the Teen Titans. Jump District in particular. What was Slade thinking bringing him where heroes (albeit teenaged ones) resided? And making him learn the terrain, it'd be all too easy now to slip out one night, run into them, and tell them what's going on. If he could manage to grab the trigger, he knew he could find safety there! There was even a Wayne Tech in town! He knew the address, he could easily—

"Good. You'll need it when you confront the Titans." There was some bite in how he said 'Titans'. Dick blinked. Slade really didn't like the Teen Titans. It was evident in every word he spoke about them. "No doubt you'll be running into them. They're children playing hero, irresponsible children who don't understand what desperate men do to accomplish their goals. Honestly, they should have remained with their mentors until they knew how to save the dying along with fighting the common criminal."

'_Someone died and he blames them,_' the amateur detective figured out quickly. '_Someone important to him._' Quickly he went over what he knew about Deathstroke from Bruce's file in his head, but nothing linked him to the Titans. '_Crap! Bruce won't have them looking here! Wait, they don't have me connected to him yet, do they?_'

His thoughts never entered the man's mind as he continued on. "With your abilities and refined training, they shouldn't be any trouble for you. I believe your family makes a game out of figuring out how to defeat different members of the Justice League." Wilson smiled coolly at him while Dick's jaw clenched again. It was one of their games at the dinner table. Bruce put them up to it. "Finding ways to stall the Titans for a few minutes, even crippling them, shouldn't be too difficult for you.

"Oh, and don't even think about joining them Renegade, or even talking to them. Particularly on your errands." They came to a part of the highly renovated warehouse containing clockworks. It was more of a factory than warehouse come to think of it. On one wall were large screens. Lower quality than the vizscreens he used in Gotham that one night. Slade pressed a remote button and displayed the probes coursing through bloodstreams, names and pictures next to them. Dick stopped mid-step, losing all color in his face. There were more than four displays.

"I took the liberty of infecting the Titans with the same probes as I did your siblings." The teen jerked his enraged and horrified glare at the man, his breath becoming labored quickly. He did what?! Slade continued as if nothing could be better. "It'll make the fights easier for you. Should you refuse to fight them or try to pass off any information, both they and your siblings will die. You'll see the effects instantly and you may have a chance to save all of them, if you obey my orders.

"Are we clear apprentice?"

Dick looked back between his master and the images. Before him were the lives of the people he cared about most and admired for the past couple years. Jason, Cass, Tim, Damian. Roy Harper, Oliver Queen's estranged ward. Donna Troy, Princess Diana of Themiscara's sister. Wally West, Barry Allen's nephew. Garth, King Arthur Curry of Atlantis' most trusted vassal. Victor Stone, former athlete and son of S.T.A.R. Labs' scientists. Garfield Logan, former Doom Patrol member and adoptive son of their leaders. Raven, a mysterious empathy with ties Jason Blood distrusted. Koriand'r, a Tamaranian refuge Superman said may be a princess. Most the world knew them by other names, but he knew who they really were, and who would be hurt the most if they died.

Instead of four small lives resting in his hands, it was twelve. His siblings and the leaders for the next generation of heroes.

He really didn't have any choice.

"Crystal."

Slade's smile grew, pleased beyond belief. "Good. Now, if you'll follow me, I'll show you to your room. Training will resume in a few hours. I certainly hope your aim has improved since you last held a gun. Your throws are able to make up for most of it, but nothing compares to a hunting rifle."

Dumbly Dick followed the man as he gave him a brief tour of the place, glaring death upon the man's back. He had to kill this man. It was the only way to save everyone. Even if it killed himself along with him.

* * *

A/N: I always thought Dick would have come to that conclusion one day if he was stuck being Slade's apprentice too long. =P SO, now he knows he's trying to save 12 people, not just his family. With that many lives on the line, he's really going to be gunning for the man's life now. He's calling Slade 'Master' in his head now, which shows how much the guy's affected him already. Ready to kill him but is scared to disobey him too. Man Dick's getting screwed up in the head.

Just a sidenote, it's about three months since his kidnapping, and about four and a half since the probes went into people. we've been covering a lot of time. In this world, instead of Dick being the undisputed leader of the Titans, Donna is! With Vic as her second in command. I also read somewhere that she and Roy went out for the longest time so they're a couple here. I bet I've got Garth's personality wrong but oh well, he's hardly in here (this version. He gets a private scene in the extended). Raven's empathic abilities are going to be used a lot in this so if I seem to make her a little OOC, sorry. Oh, and Roy's currently in a place where he and Ollie don't get along. They're in San Fran 'Jump District' because all over Teen Titans in the cartoon version, Jump City was on the west coast and the Tower in the comics, west coast, was in San Fran. This is how I blend it all together. NO idea how Starfire learned english in this version. 3X

Any questions? Liked the easter eggs hidden inside it? Mention them if you want. I enjoy it. =P


	62. Sacrifice-14-Introducing X

Now came the part where I had to watch the episodes over and over again. Enjoy the action scenes ahead! Next chapter has Bruce and the kids again. Enjoy!

Dick-16/17 Jason-13 Cass-11/12 Tim-9 Damian-3

* * *

**Sacrifice**

_14 – Introducing X_

Normally a string of robberies would be a low priority to the Titans, better left to the police. But these robberies were unusual. The robber was a masked teenager near their age, and he was usually only caught on camera twice per heist. The first time was deliberate, a calling card. He'd sign 'I'm Sorry' to the cameras then vanish again. The second time was when he snagged the item, making it clear it was he who took it. Then he was gone.

Property damage was minimal, one or two guards were knocked out, if any, and there was no evidence left behind to incriminate anyone. The sensors never picked him up and he never tripped a wire or pressure plate. The kid was a ghost! And the media was calling him the 'I'm Sorry Thief'. It was the talk of the tabloids, and all the websites that liked to praise criminals instead of heroes. The guy was getting his own fanclubs! And he only started about two weeks ago!

What really put him on the Titans radar though was when he went after a series of chips that apparently could guide a nuclear warhead. The first one he took without a fuss (no sign of anyone targeting it before), but after a coincidental run in with Aqualad, the team made a point to catch the guy when he went after the other two. They wanted to know why a criminal like him would go out of his way to save their teammate from a burning building, and call him 'Lancelot'. Especially one who wore a cruel looking 'S' over his heart.

Hearing that there were two others needed, Donna thought it'd be a good idea to split off into two groups and keep an eye out for this guy. It was time to make the 'I'm Sorry Thief' really sorry. Cyborg and his group spotted him running in the tech district, away from the crime scene. When had he snagged the chip? "There!"

At the sound of his voice, the thief stopped and looked at him, eyes widening behind his bandana like mask. Even though they couldn't see the color of them through the white lenses, every muscle on the guy's face screamed 'Oh Crap!'. Within seconds he was running again, possibly faster than before. With that piece of encouragement, the four of them sprinted after him into the subway tunnels. The guy was scared of them. Good.

Starfire flew ahead of everyone else and looked around in surprise. "Where is he? Where is this thief claiming to be sorry?"

"He came in here, we all saw him!" Beast Boy turned into a hound dog trying to pick up a sent, but everything was too confusing for his nose to make out anything. "Eeeww! Someone peed in here!"

"He's gotta be here somewhere…" Cyborg tapped his controls for a moment, adjusting his eye to see cloaked individuals. "The station's empty this time of night. And the next train shouldn't be coming for another ten minutes."

"He's here. Mhm…" Raven leaned heavily on the stairs railings, touching her head gingerly.

"Raven?" Starfire floated down to their friend, concern all over her face. "What is wrong? Are you hurt?"

"That guy…" She winced, looking upwards to the rafters. "His emotions are all over the place, bleeding out. He's terrified."

The thief swung down from the rafters and kicked Cyborg skidding across the floor. A back flip backwards regained the guy's balance before charging at them for a second strike.

"Doesn't look terrified to me!" Beast Boy jibed before getting a swift punch in the gut. The guy propelled himself over the shape shifter and leapt back to Cyborg, getting behind him before he could attack.

"Say what?!" An electric pulse coursed through his body for a moment, limiting his defenses so the back panel opened and his systems were exposed. The thief's hands dived in and started working. "What are you-! Who told you how to hack… my… ssyyyssstttteeeemmmssss…."

Cyborg fell to the ground, limp and shut down without a fight. His friends gaped in shock at the thief and their squad leader. No one, not even Gizmo, had managed to take him down like that. "Cyborg?"

The thief didn't give them any more than a second to realize what happened before he dived back at them. Beast Boy narrowly escaped a gloppy gooey substance launched at him, but Starfire couldn't evade the bolo thrown at her. Tied up, two members were down and a third wasn't looking too good.

The guy's emotions… Weakly she chanted her mantra. "Azarath, Metrion, Zin—"

A super sticky tape was slapped over Raven's mouth, cutting her off before she could finish. A well placed kick knocked her too to the ground, unconscious.

"Raven!" Beast Boy turned into a ram and struck at the thief, landing a blow when the others hadn't. Propelled forward, the guy grabbed onto one of the pillars supporting the roof and twisted around it, striking right back at him. The green shifter thought he felt his ribs crack from the kick and his back bruise when he fell onto the tracks. While he tried to regather his bearings, the thief turned back to Starfire to make sure she couldn't follow him.

A train's horn filled the air. Like a deer in headlights, the former Doom Patrol member froze, looking at his oncoming doom. The 116 was early. Gaping at the lights coming towards him instead of shifting or getting off the track, dread filled him. Such a short life. A hard yank brought him out of his stupor as the thief jerked him off the tracks and onto the opposite platform. Hard.

The wind knocked out of both of them and breathing hard to regain their strength, they looked at each other for a moment. Beast Boy could swear he saw desperation and worry on the guy's face. "Idiot."

Both of them struggled to their feet, the thief looking at the train for a moment while the hero pointed and stared at him. "Dude, did you just save me?"

The words seem to strike the guy, making him kick his chest and high tail it up the stairs on that side. Beast Boy was still gripping his chest (definitely a cracked rib now) when the train passed and Starfire made it to him. Raven was going towards Cyborg to see if she could help him and radioing the rest of the team. "Beast Boy! You are undamaged?"

"Mostly…" Slowly the most experienced earth hero there got to his feet, staring at the exit their target used. "Who is that guy?"

* * *

Dick wiped his mouth with the back of his glove. He was sick again. Master wasn't going to like that. He threw up after every heist, his stomach twisting in knots the entire time he did opposite of what he believed in. His parents would have hated what he became. If he were in Gotham, Batman would have taken him down.

Quickly he shook his head, clearing it as he came closer to the chamber Master was waiting for him in. One hand stayed on the wall for support. He needed it with the exhaustion and stress hitting him. Fighting the Titans, even half of them (their more powerful ones at that), took more out of him than he anticipated. Or maybe it was just saving Beast Boy from certain death that did it. He shook pretty badly after saving Aqualad too.

Taking a deep breath, he opened the door leading to Master's monitor room. He liked to watch 'Renegade' as he performed from surrounding security cameras. Looking at the screens he could see every move he made in that subway tunnel. Frankly, they were the only cameras that got a good look at him the entire heist. The company's cameras only saw a body and hands. He really was that good, and all from games he played as a kid in Wayne Tower.

"Put the chip on the desk." He did, taking it out of his belt and putting the stupid thing as far from him as possible. "Come here."

Dick took a long breath before coming to his master and standing at attention. He liked that, imitating military manners. It made the man feel he was in control. Deathstroke brought up some footage, particularly of Beast Boy being saved from the train. "Didn't I tell you before to leave the Titans alone? If they fall, let them fall. If they burn, let them burn. They aren't doing you any favors alive are they?"

The teen said nothing, kept himself stony. If he was going to be punished for saving a life, again, then couldn't he hurry up? Slade came within six inches to his face, displeasure dripping from his voice. "This is your second strike apprentice. When I tell you to fight the Titans, you fight as if your life depends on it. Next time you fail to obey my orders, their lives will. Understood?"

A chill ran through the teen's body as his chest became heavy again. His lip trembled slightly but other than that he kept his composure. He had to act strong, even if he really wasn't. "Yes Master."

Satisfied, the man nodded. "Good. Now get to the shower. You smell horrible."

Immediate panic filled the teen's chest but he nodded and obediently headed for the 'shower', stripping along the way. His fault for getting sick. His fault for not obeying orders. His fault for putting Beast Boy in danger in the first place. They were all grounds for this in Slade's mind, and it all wore away his.

It was only the thought of his siblings' lives and that of his force upon him foes that made him go through that door and face the music.

* * *

"Seriously, this is one confusing dude," Gar murmured as they watched every bit of the 'I'm Sorry Thief's footage. "He steals, takes down security guards, fights us, and saves both our lives?"

"Looks like it," Roy murmured, looking over the data. They had a pretty good idea what the next theft would be, but they were more interested in the motivation. "A thief with a conscience."

"But why?!" BB looked at everyone, emphatically conveying his confusion. "Why is he stealing at all?! Why is he doing this?! I mean, Rae said he was terrified because of us and—"

"I said he was terrified," Raven stated evenly, a damp cloth covering her eyes as she laid on the couch. "Not necessarily of us. It's possible he's being forced to steal and we just made his job that much harder."

"Okay, that I'll bite," he admitted, "but that guy looked seriously worried about me when he saved my hide."

"Same with me." Garth rubbed his chin in thought, glaring at the screen. "He called me an idiot with a death wish, then clammed up and ran away. That's not normal, is it?"

"Not usually." Cyborg continued to work an algorithm to protect him from their next encounter with the thief. No permanent damage. It was more like he was forced into a reboot, up and at 'em in five minutes. The guy could have killed him or shut him down for good, but he didn't. That was saying a lot to him. "Then again, nothing about this guy is normal. Did you see how he moves? Those flips and kicks?"

"Not to mention he has a pretty nice looking tushie." They all gaped at their leader in shock. Roy was especially jealous of the comment, turning red with anger. Donna just shrugged. "Just pointing it out. There aren't a lot of guys out there with that cute of a butt. He's like a super acrobat."

"More like a miniature supervillain!" Now Roy was 100% for catching this guy and getting their answers. "He took down half our team! In minutes! I don't care how many people he's seemed to save! He's still a criminal!"

"But he hasn't killed." Wonder Girl smirked as she one upped her boyfriend, thinking it was cute how jealous he got over this guy. "He's clearly new to the game too. He's not on the Justice League radar and only the local authorities have a warrant out for his arrest. We just don't know what his motivations are, and that's what's so confusing."

"I'm more interested in how he knew how to take us down." Cyborg glared in frustration. "My systems aren't that easy to hack, and Star's no pushover. How could a new guy beat us all so easily?"

"Dunno…" Kid Flash was looking over the schematics from analyzing the goop the guy used to silence Raven and tried to stop Beast Boy. It was frighteningly familiar, from Central. "But I'm thinking Raven might be right about there being someone else pulling the strings."

"Why's that?" Aqualad leaned over his shoulder to see what he was looking at, and was soon joined by Starfire and her cooking.

"Those tricks of his? They're a lot like something Trickster used on Flash once. I'll have to run this by him and see if—"

Their conversation was cut short by their alarm. Dr. Light was trying to rob a bank downtown. This case would have to wait. "Titans! Go!"

* * *

Another heist. Already his stomach hurt. Lowering himself into the room the chip was floating in (seriously, floating chips? What was wrong with these people?! They were safer if they were hidden in different tech or in an inauspicious drawer!) Dick tried to not set off any alarms as he grabbed it. Only signs of him being there would be the security footage and the thing being missing. He already made his sign to the camera (and a hidden message if anyone ever bothered to look), this was all that was left before high tailing it out of there. And that was exactly what he had in mind when the lights flared on.

"Oh wow, looks like we've got a Spiderman fan!"

He clenched his jaw, freezing at the voice. '_No… not him…_' Slowly he turned his head about, his eyes readjusting to the light, and saw he was surrounded. Speedy had his bow drawn and pointed at him, grinning.

"I'd advise surrendering Sorry Boy."

"Seconded," Wonder Girl stated, lasso ready for use. The whole team took a step towards him, threatening and down to business at the same time. "You will not win this fight."

'_Watch me_.' Dick firmly kept his mouth shut as he threw gas and smoke pellets at them, blinding them temporarily. He let go of his line and sent it skyward to confuse them while flipping off and ducking out of the way. Arrows shot at where he once was and a speedster ran headlong at him while Starfire and Beast Boy followed after the cable diversion. Quickly he threw dry ice pellets at Kid Flash's legs, freezing them instantly and tripping him up. He knocked himself out when he crashed into the wall. One down.

As the smoke cleared, the reluctant thief darted out the side door, barely seen escaping by Cyborg. "I don't think so wise guy!"

"Aqualad! Go with Cyborg. We'll try to cut him off at the bend!" Wonder Girl looked over to her remaining teammates and saw Raven was still struggling. "Raven! Are you—"

"I'm fine, go without me." She nodded over to KF. "I'll handle him."

"Careful, he's a horrible patient." Speedy and Wonder Girl ran out another door, navigating through the halls to possibly cut the teenager off before leaving the building. But they didn't know about all the training and all the experience this guy had in playing tag in corporate buildings. He was outside and running on rooftops to get away before they even made it to a fork.

"BB and Star have him in their sights! He won't get far!" Cyborg informed them when they met up, all of them racing to catch up with this thief. Aqualad grabbed his partner and rode some conjured waves to propel them forward while Wonder Girl took Speedy's hand and flew ahead. And the guy was still ahead of them!

"Is he another speedster?" The archer demanded after five minutes. He was losing feeling in his hand.

"Don't think so! Look!" The group seemed to reconverge on the rooftop still under construction, where both Starfire and Beast Boy were fighting… were those Sladebots?! "It can't be… Titans! Go!"

Wonder Girl dropped her boyfriend so he could start firing his arrows at the monstrosities. Speedy's shots blew several of them out of the water before he even touched the ground, rolling with the landing. Cyborg and Aqualad soon joined him in the fray while their leader worked on assisting Beast Boy and Starfire. She looked around anxiously, not happy about this new development. "Where'd he go?!"

"Up there." Raven and a bootless Kid Flash (they shattered when he vibrated out of them) appeared in the shadow of a black bird, ready to rejoin the fray. But when she pointed to one spot, it was as if time stood still. Even the robots around them pulled back so they could see.

The 'I'm Sorry Thief' stood before their old enemy, Slade. The teen did not look happy, and in truth his stomach was turning around in worse ways than ever before. Darkness and dread filled his chest as he stood before his master and handed him the last chip. "Well done apprentice. You even led them here for a proper introduction."

"Introduction?!" The Titans glared at the two of them, seeing the similarities in their costumes now. How couldn't they see it earlier?! The kid was dressed like Slade! "What's going on Slade?! Why are you back?! For another butt-whoopin'?"

"Quite the contrary Titans. This is merely the beginning. Oh, please. Allow me to introduce you to my apprentice, Renegade." He placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, but Dick didn't move or flinch. He focused on being stone, on feeling nothing, doing nothing. He couldn't let anyone know how he really felt, not yet.

"Renegade?!" "Apprentice?!" "Who would ever work for you?!"

"It's a mutually beneficial relationship, I assure you." The look of disgust on each of the teen's faces was almost humorous. If only it wasn't matched with how the apprentice felt. His fist was tightly clenched shut and it took all his willpower not to lash out. When Raven suddenly collapsed behind him, Slade smirked under his mask. "Well well well, someone isn't suited for this job. That only makes this easier. Renegade, attack."

For a brief second the teen hesitated, then he back flipped and dropped towards them, weapons flying. Master's boomerangs weren't near as accurate as batarangs, but Dick grew up throwing hats, plastic knives, badly made paper airplanes, and Styrofoam plates for fun. He hadn't missed a serious target since he was thirteen. Speedy's bow string snapped on impact, Cyborg's false eye had metal sticking out of it, and Aqualad had a tear down his arm. And that was before the teen landed.

"Ah cripes!" "Titans! Go!"

Kid Flash again dashed forward, trying to hit the guy who destroyed his boots, only to get tripped and thrown into Beast Boy. That glue putty he analyzed the other day splashed over both of them, stopping both from using their powers effectively as they fought against it. Three down

Starfire threw her bolts at him, easily dodged as he made a beeline for Speedy. Aqualad put up a water barrier in order to give the archer time to restring his bow, but a quick freeze pellet into it made the barrier easy to destroy. Renegade tripped up the Atlantian quickly, striking pressure points then throwing him into a nearby electrical box. The fishboy screamed out in pain when the electricity ran through him, but he was quickly thrown from it when it exploded before it could kill him. Four down.

Speedy jerked up to defend himself only to get a quick set of kicks and punches before Renegade flipped over him, grabbing several arrows from his quiver. Wonder Girl flew right into her boyfriend, accidentally set on a collision course after checking on Aqualad. The archer was down for the count but their leader was going to get back up soon.

Renegade had to dodge a well-aimed kick from Cyborg, but it only served him a favor. Quickly he drove one of Speedy's arrows into the back of the mechanical knee, the electromagnetics in that arrow sending false signals throughout his parts in seconds. The former athlete screamed out in pain before toppling to the ground as well. Six down.

Only the two power house girls left, alien and amazon. The teen braced himself for the next attack, trying to think fast. '_Okay… Diana and J'onn. How did we say we'd take them down?_'

"Azarath Metrion Zinthos!" Raven's soul-self latched onto all the Titans, gathering them inside a dark bird form and taking them away from that rooftop. Renegade nearly tripped over himself, having been in a run towards Wonder Girl in order to try some martial arts trick when the dark light took them. He barely managed to turn it into a roll and stop himself before injury.

Breathing hard he looked up to where the inanimate raven flew away. The Titans had escaped. '_Didn't know she could do that. Bruce missed something…_'

"Well done apprentice." Slade put a hand on his back, proud of him. Startled, Dick grabbed that hand and threw him over his shoulder, slamming him against the concrete roof. The last arrow he had came within inches of the man's good eye before he realized what he was doing. He stopped, his breathing panicked as his master's eye narrowed at him. "Interesting. You're really giving your all tonight."

Deathstroke grabbed and twisted the teen's hand as he flipped back to his feet. Fear drove into Dick's heart as the searing pain rushed up his hand and arm. His master locked his arm into an uncomfortable position and pushed. It felt like his bones were being forced into each other, making him cry out in pain and fall to his knees. He never saw this move before, and didn't know how to counter it.

"But you need to work on that instinct you've gained," the man lectured. He kept up the pressure, standing firmly on his feet as he continued. "Throwing and killing your enemies is all well and good, but you must be sure he isn't an ally before you do something drastic. I don't think you're ready to kill me quite yet, apprentice."

"Please…" Dick weakly begged, pain filled tears starting to come to his eyes. "Stop… Master please…"

Satisfied, Slade released him and strode forward. "Come. The authorities will be here shortly. And truly, you performed magnificently tonight Renegade. Only one mistake, and only towards me. Well done."

* * *

A/N: and Renegade meets the Titans! This was the Red X ep, clearly with a completely different take. Due to a game the Wayne's play at the dinner table, and reading Bruce's files on all the heroes out there (Bruce being Bruce), he knows everything he needed to take most of them down. Raven being an empath, I made it so Dick's over-the-edge emotions knocked her out. Personally don't know how to take down Starfire but I did the best I could based off the eps. I think Beast Boy would be the hardest for him to fight due to all his experience and powers (did you see how well he fought in those eps?), while many of the others would be a bit predictable. and considering Dick did beat all this friends single handedly in both the red X and apprentice eps, I don't think this is too far off.

the only reason Dick didn't take the extra step and killed Slade, was because he's still not a killer. He only flipped him was because he was in the moment and reacted instead of acted. Oh and Dick saves lives, that's what he does. =P I'll write up Garth's life saving moment in the extended. Just because he's being manipulated into becoming a bad guy doesn't mean he is one.

I really like the Titans' banter and I think over all they take this whole thing rather well. Things are speeding up. =D


	63. Sacrifice-15-Pains Worse than Death

More show to story bits! plus... well you'll see! Everything will be coming together soon!

Dick-16/17 Jason-13 Cass-11/12 Tim-9 Damian-3

* * *

**Sacrifice**

_15 – Pains Worse Than Death_

Dick rested his head against the cool plasma screen for a moment, ignoring the lights coming from it. Other than what was on the screen, it felt good just to stand there. He managed not to throw up that night, but it was a close thing.

After a couple weeks (he assumed) of dodging the Titans, they arrived at the end of this heist. S.T.A.R. Labs had some thermal blaster Slade wanted for some reason, and he was tinkering with it now. Part of the team had cornered him outside the building and he barely managed to escape without a fight. Firing the blaster at the bridge just under them, he made a big enough distraction to get away. Since he admitted to his master he hadn't thought of a way to take down Starfire or really knock out Wonder Girl (he was doubting his methods with Raven too honestly), the man agreed to let him run the next few times they ran into each other. At least for the moment.

Still, it was nice not to think for a moment and let the cool plastic of the screen relieve his burning skin. In Mexico and on the road, Master had increased his endurance. He could run longer and faster than ever before, even lift weights twice his own. His reflexes were faster, sharper, and honestly he didn't tire as easily. Not physically at least. Most of his exhaustion was emotional, and that typically made him physically sick.

'_Didn't puke this time. That's good right?_' He ignored the moral pounding in his head. Stealing, not good. Not being sick, good. Not being sick after steeling, good? Bad? He should be feeling guilt like he always did, but that had lessened due to necessity. Which was worse: being the reason behind twelve good people's deaths or taking something for a psychopath from people who could afford it? A psycho you were planning on killing once you had the skills to do so that was. He'd right all his wrongs once the threat was gone. That was right. That was good. Bruce would approve… wouldn't he?

"Renegade, come." Dick took a deep breath before leaving the one piece of comfort he had in that place at the moment to rejoin his master. Once with him, he blinked in surprise. Master had the thermal blaster refitted to a piece of his armor. He only wore it during a heist should he be shot at. Why was the thing now attached? "Put this on and test it in the firing hall. Run a few drills with it and get comfortable with it. You'll need it soon against the Tamaranian."

The teen visibly paled. The laser was for… Swallowing the lump in his throat, Dick nodded, fitting the gantlet back on his wrist. His master smiled, pleased by his obedience. "When you're done, come back here. I have the plans for your next job, and I will not accept failure."

His apprentice nodded and left, not wanting to think about the next job, or the next job, or the next one. Just the last one he gave himself. It couldn't come soon enough.

* * *

Beast Boy groaned on the couch. "Seriously Raven, I'm beginning to doubt Renegade's a good guy in a bad costume."

"I know what I felt Gar." Their empath focused on her meditation, controlling how much she felt from the others in the room. Since first meeting Renegade and his unbridled emotions, she had trouble every time he was near. All the strong feelings inside him bled out constantly, even if his face said otherwise. Only during their fight with him a couple weeks ago, when he was seemingly lost in one emotion, did she have the strength to use her powers for her friends. Rage. All he felt then was rage, but very little of it was directed at them. "He's not doing any of this by choice and I sincerely doubt he wants to fight us."

"Could have fooled me." Cyborg was still working out all the bugs to protect himself from another of that guy's technological attacks. "He knew how to take each one of us out without batting an eye! He may have saved Garth and BB once, but he could have killed all of us that night."

"He could have killed us last night as well," Raven pointed out. "But instead he chose a distraction so he could leave. Slade's behind him, and we know how he is with teenagers."

"He made us hurt each other," Donna reminded them. She was really upset with the thief after he tricked her into hurting Roy. The archer was highly embarrassed he was beaten by a complete amateur. He and Beast Boy were the most experienced of the entire team and both were taken down like novices, by a dude younger than him! "And he's a criminal. Whatever his reasons, we can't let him run free."

"He didn't have everyone figured out you know." Garth poured some water over his head in the kitchen, keeping Starfire company as she attempted to cook, again. "I'm pretty sure he was winging it with you and Star. He made a point of not attacking the two of you directly."

"Could be a 'don't fight girls' policy," BB offered. Uncomfortable, he changed into a cat and started scurrying his back. There was this itch between his shoulder blades that seriously bugged him.

"Doubt it."

"Sorry I'm late!" Kid Flash ran into the room at top speed, his backpack swinging from one arm. "Detention for being late, again."

"Did you ask your uncle about Renegade's toys?" It was all business in a matter of seconds. Donna was good at that.

The speedster sighed, shrugging. "He's a bit swamped with his day job but I gave him the samples to see if he could verify my findings. He never heard of Renegade either in case you're wondering. Is that all you've been talking about? That kid who killed my boots?"

"We ran into him again last night." Their leader's jaw tightened in distaste. "He's not just taking chips, programs, or documents now. He took a laser cannon."

"Probably to use in another heist. Roy still shooting?"

"Like always." Cyborg looked through the walls best he could, a grim look on his face. "He's really peeved about that rookie beating him."

"Beating him?! He ruined my doo!" Beast Boy near leapt to his feet enraged. Though the changeling understood what he was feeling, he got over it easily. How many times had he been beaten? And how many more years of experience did he have? "That guy really needs to get his priorities straight."

"You're the one with all the wrong priorities." Wally ran a hand through his hair before swiping the remote and settling himself on the couch. "I vote we take a break from thinking about Slade and his new friend and just relax for a while. There's this new movie on HBO I wanna see and my mom won't go for cable."

"Seriously?" "Dude! I was so gonna suggest that!" "Is that the only reason why you're here? For a movie?" Most of them laughed, letting the tension leave them for a minute or two. What would come would come. Slade did not rule their lives, and neither did his apprentice.

* * *

The sick feeling in his stomach increased with every step he made. Did the manager of this building have to put the target on display like all the other idiots in town?! Seriously, they were only asking for trouble. At least this time it really wouldn't be stealing.

"You're not walking out of here Renegade!" Dick stiffened at the sound of Cyborg's voice, jerking around in surprise. He thought it'd be the building's security that'd reach him first, not them. Again every Teen Titan was before him, blocking his direct exit. "Not without a fight."

'_Not again!_' Quickly he grabbed the piece of tech behind him and charged forward, poised for a fight.

"Titans! Go!" The team ran straight at him, supercharged for a rematch.

But they weren't getting one. Quickly the thief leapt off of their spokesman, flipped over all their heads and grabbed onto the pipes for the sprinkler system on the ceiling. Swinging from that, he crashed into the air vent above and started navigating through it. He knew his way around one of these buildings. By the time he made it to the roof the device was already in a pouch and he was ready to bail.

"_Not so fast Renegade._" Master's voice crooned over the com in his ear, making his heart stop for a moment. "_You have yet to achieve your objective._"

"I got the device!" Dick retorted, desperate to get out of there before the Titans cornered him again. He had to get off that roof, away from his—"If I stayed a minute longer I—"

"_NO!_" That really made the teen stop in his tracks, both scared and confused. What more did he want?! "_Go back. Unless you want me to destroy them, go back and fight!_"

Inside he panicked. Master wanted him to fight, to prove he could take down each and every Titan, and in a way the Justice League. Whatever the man's personal vendetta was with this team, his apprentice defeating them would prove himself superior to all their mentors. This man wanted to win, with his favorite pawn.

"Renegade!" He jerked around at Wonder Girl's voice, the first to appear from the stairs. The others were soon following and he could swear he saw Speedy come through the airshaft after him and Raven appearing from her black light transfer spell. The Titans' leader stood her ground before him, lasso in hand. "Look, we don't know what has made you work for a man like Slade, but if you're willing to talk we can—"

The acrobat flew onto a kick and sent her flying towards the open stairwell, knocking into Cyborg on the way down. The others had barely joined them, making the group's first plan to try and flip Renegade fly out the window. Beast Boy stepped up to fight first, changing into a gorilla and making a dive for him while Speedy took a couple shots at his back. "Guess there's nothing to talk about."

Dick dodged each blow and shot as it came towards him, hiding his automatic distaste for the gorilla as he leaped onto the electric 'A' adorning the roof (a monkey bit him when he was four and he had to get shots; hated any kind of monkey since). BB followed him to a point, ready to grab him in an instant. He took advantage of his flailing arms and whipped a line from his belt around the guy's wrist. Quickly he swung down through the hole in the 'A', pulling the shape shifter after him and lodging the guy there with his temporary bulk. That'd buy him a few minutes to disable the rest.

He turned his attention to Speedy, still firing away at him, and glaring death. Dick fought back the pain from seeing that look on his old friend Roy's face and instead caught his arrows in midflight, throwing them straight back to their source. One blinded the archer, exploding, while another cut his string and a third pinned his vest to the AC unit behind him. He was about to rip himself free when the teen kicked him across the head, knocking him out.

He would have taken some comfort in taking down the most experienced ones already if Aqualad and Kid Flash hadn't charged at him right after. Purposely turning with the water flow and using the propelled momentum to his advantage, Renegade twisted into a kick, blindsiding KF and getting him caught in his ally's current, flying off the roof. Their target didn't stop the Atlantian from following after him to save his friend. He knew the two of them would be alright. They had each other.

A golden lasso found its way around his arms and torso, pulling him back towards the rest of the team. Wonder Girl floated above him, glaring slightly. "Forget about me?"

"Nope." Deliberately falling into her pull, he put all his weight backwards into a roll, tugging her rope downward and wrapping it around himself. Her surprise dragged her to the ground while he swiftly untied the amazon's knot and tugged the owner in for a swift kick to her gut. Raven and Starfire managed to catch her before he made a charge at them. Cyborg was just a few feet away, charging up his weapon but stopped himself when he realized he could hurt the girls, instead running forwards for some hand to hand. But it was Beast Boy as a ram that stopped him from hurting them further.

Thrown by the changeling's impact to the edge of the roof, Dick rolled with it and played dead for a moment, catching his breath. The former Doom Patrol member was causing him more trouble than any of the others. Maybe he should have…

"Dude! Are you okay?"

Guilt and anger propelled him to throw a flash bomb at the young hero, sending him flying towards Cyborg. He couldn't afford pity or guilt right then, nor anything else. Dick pushed himself up, glaring his frustration at all of them. It was bad enough he was stealing from there; did they have to pop up too?!

"_Fight to win Renegade._" Now he was getting orders from the concession stand! If only Master would shut up! "_Use the thermal blaster._"

The teen's arm shook where the weapon rested. He may have trained with it, but the old circus brat still hadn't shot anything living. He couldn't…

"Azarath Metrion Zinthos!" Raven, someone he managed to avoid fighting much, cast a dark tunnel spell at him, distracting him for a moment. The black energy gripped his torso, but he managed to grab a flash disk before it could complete immobilize him. He threw it just a few feet from her position, blinding her and Wonder Girl while throwing them back a few paces.

Dick dropped back to the ground and charged at Cyborg, barely struggling to get back to his feet. Feebly the larger teen blocked as many blows as he could while being pushed back. Cy created his sonic cannon to blast at him, only for the acrobat to deflect it and swing his feet out from under him. The accidental discharge of his cannon only helped throw its owner back and his opponent to fly into the air and back to the barely working electric 'A' again.

Renegade surveyed the team for a moment, then launched himself into a run across the remaining letters. He beat the Titans once again. Best not to add anymore insult to injury with them. And the device was safely away in his—

He stopped and looked around. The tech he stole. It wasn't in his pouch. "Damn it…"

"_I thought I told you to use that blaster._" Dick grit his teeth, casting his eyes about for the tech he took while trying to make sure the Titans were still out. Speedy was waking up and Aqualad was bringing KF back to the roof on a water construct. He didn't have much time! Add Master breathing down his neck and—

"STOP!"

"_ATTACK! NOW!_"

The wind picked up around him, with a hint of Jasmine and a green glow emanating to the side. His mind racing a mile a minute, he jerked around, raising the gantlet with the blaster attached level to his next opponent's face. But what he saw and what was really there didn't match up.

"Do not move."

His heart stopped at the sight, his head swimming as he hesitated. Red hair, green eyes, purple dance costume, it was… "Barbara?"

The look of confusion on Starfire's face could only be matched with the desperate heartbreak on his. He didn't see the Titan floating in front of him, only the girl he had no choice but to leave behind. His head was so confused… "Pardon?"

Still in a state of confusion, he powered down his weapon and looked at her desperately. "What are you—AARHG!"

"_RENEGADE!_" Master made the earpiece ring when he shouted, making Dick painfully grip his head. "_I gave you an order. If you won't attack, my probes will._"

"NO!

* * *

Bruce rubbed his eye, blearily waking for another day. The sun wouldn't rise for another two hours and he hardly slept a wink, but three of his kids had school and he had a meeting later in the day, whether he liked it or not. Lucius insisted this project would get the company back on top again since its dip over the holidays when news of Dick's kidnapping came out. Family scandals had more consequences than he ever wished to admit.

Part way through taking off his night shirt to go shower, he heard an ear splitting scream. No, not one, four. He slammed through his bedroom door and ran straight for the closest one in the nursery. Damian was crying and thrashing and screaming in pain, sometimes yelling for Daddy. His skin had turned into a sickening shade of orange, and glowed in the darkness. Horrified at the sight, Bruce picked up his son and tried to hold him, only for the thrashing to continue. The toddler's skin was on fire, his heartbeat racing! No amount of cuddling would calm him.

"DAD!" "DADDY!" "ALFRED!" "DADDY!" "DAD!" "HELP!"

Bruce kept a tight grip on his youngest as he flew out the door, his heart leaping to his throat in panic at all the shouting and screams. Damian didn't stop when he came into Tim's room, and the nine year old was in just as much pain as he. "Tim…"

He turned to the hall again and saw a harried Alfred stepping out in horrified shock from Jason's room. Their eyes met as they heard Cassandra's screams as well, terror filling their eyes. They already knew she was the same. "Call an ambulance!"

Alfred sprinted to Jason's cellphone just as Damian's cries died out and he went limp in his father's arms. He was still glowing orange, burning from the inside out, but he was barely breathing. "No… Damian! Wake up! DAMIAN!"

* * *

Dick barely managed to catch Starfire before she crashed to the rooftop below, horror and panic filling him. The unhealthy orange glow coming from her skin and her agony clear on her face reminded him instantly of that first day when that woman was tortured in front of him. And if it was happening to the Titans…

"NO! STOP! PLEASE STOP! MASTER PLEASE!" Tear filled begging overtook his voice as he screamed to be heard. If not by Slade then by God above. "I'LL DO EVERYTHING YOU WANT! JUST DON'T HURT THEM ANYMORE! PLEASE MASTER STOP!"

Deathstroke waited a moment before answering. "_You already know how to save them. Attack Renegade. Attack with everything you've got. It's the only way to save your family._"

Horror, desperation, grief, they all took over his face when he hesitated. He looked over the Titans for a moment, seeing their agony. In his mind he could see his siblings waking up to this pain. It could kill the smallest ones, just the pain alone.

Titans or his siblings.

No contest.

He let go of Starfire, letting her lay crumbled on the 'E' and glaring down on her. She reached up in pain, instinctively trying to get help. But there wouldn't be any. Renegade charged up the blaster and pointed it at her chest.

"I'm sorry."

He fired the thermal blaster once then took off towards the others. As seriously as he fought them before, it was only to get away. Now it was to save everything dear to him. And nothing would stop him.

"_That's my boy,_" rang over his earpiece, but he ignored it. Though his stomach revolted against the words, he didn't have time to think about it. He had to take down everyone, fast.

The orange glow stopped, taking one knife out of his chest, but it was startling how quickly a few of them were getting up. Speedy, Wonder Girl, and Aqualad needed a moment more than the others, but the device was at the archer's feet. Beast Boy was the first to make a coherent comment. That guy was resilient. "Okay, weirdness. What just—"

"HIIYAAA!" Renegade blasted at the ground where the recovered, softening his decent and surprising them in one go. BB turned to face him, only to get tripped up and thrown at Raven. He tripped and threw Cyborg backwards, crashing into a barely recovering Kid Flash just as Starfire (who's Tamaranian armor protected her from the blast) shot some of her bolts at him. He flew just past her and tried to land a kick after bouncing off the 'Y' behind her, but she narrowly dodged it. The acrobat caught himself in a flip, then landed to one knee, raising his blaster at them, glaring fiery hail. The alien hesitated a moment when she saw it directed at her.

Seeing her fear, he readjusted his aim and deliberately struck the 'Y' and 'N' behind them, before changing his target to Beast Boy. The shape shifter turned into a monkey to dodge the blasts, moving behind Raven's wavering shield before launching himself at their attacker. Reflexively he flinched and struggled with the monkey prancing around his body. It took him a few seconds to throw him off, but that was enough for Raven's dark energy to grab hold of the blaster and crumble it to pieces.

The empath took a surprised step back when she felt the small wave of relief flood over Renegade, which only made it easier for him to grab her wrists and tug her hood over her eyes before throwing her into Kid Flash. Cyborg made a dive for him, but the guy easily slipped out under the larger teen, tripping him in the process. He turned and readied himself for another round with these Titans, ready and willing to wipe them off the face of the planet if it meant his siblings would live.

"_I think that's enough for one night._" Master's smile over the com riled the teen up even more than before. "_End the fight and come home._"

Renegade looked once at Speedy and the tech he was supposed to steal. He knew his master wouldn't hesitate to activate the probes again if he failed to bring it. He looked at the team again and frowned. One easy way out of this.

Quickly he threw concussion flash disks at the glowing sign behind them, hitting just the right location to bring down the nearest pieces. They were already a mess anyway. As the dust kicked up and the sign pieces fell, Cyborg shouted for them to scatter. "Titans! MOVE!"

While those five ran to save their own hide and their teammates who were still recovering from the probe attack, Renegade ran at Speedy, grabbing the device he was realizing as at his feet. He almost made a clean getaway but the archer reflexively grabbed his arm, trying to detain him. "Don't even think about it wise guy! OOF!"

The acrobat kicked off of him, flipping backwards off the nearby ledge as if it were natural. He locked masked eyes with the hero and gave a knowing smirk before flicking something from the tech towards him. Then the thief was gone.

Speedy gaped at the open air, remembering that smirk and feeling he should know it somehow. He looked down to his feet and spotted what was shot at him at the last minute: a small red computer chip. Picking it up, he looked over the ledge to see if the guy was street pizza or not. Instead he spotted someone swinging from a line just out of their sights, already a couple blocks away.

The dust settled behind him and he heard his friends gather. Garth and Donna were still groaning while Wally just coughed up a storm, but the others seemed to have fared well. Starfire and Raven were looking around, as if expecting the criminal to still be there.

"He's gone," Raven concluded, landing by the undamaged 'W'.

"Everybody okay?" Cyborg looked over everyone, he being the largest and oldest of them, he felt the most responsible for them. Everyone nodded or confirmed they weren't that badly hurt. They would be sore for a while, but there was no horrible damage done to them.

"Uh, I know where Renegade picked up that heat ray," Breast Boy started after dropping from his bat form, "but, where did he learn that glowy, hurty trick? I've never heard of anyone who could do that."

"I do not thing that was Renegade," Starfire started, looking off to where Speedy was looking. Her armor was a little burnt, but other than that she was fine. The concern on her face and in her voice came from her thoughts. The teen looked so lost, so startled and heartbroken when he saw her at a glance, then how he yelled for his 'master' to stop… it was becoming clear to her he wasn't behind the burning pain they all shared. "Perhaps it is Slade who has learned a new trick."

"Dude! How can you say that?!" Cyborg interjected, miffed beyond words. "Slade isn't anywhere near here! That guy was ten feet away! He has to be behind this!"

"Believe what you will, but I know what I heard." The Tamaranian glared slightly at her friend. "Renegade begged for our lives to be spared. He was truly sorry when he used that weapon upon me. And I believe his aim in each of his fights was to disable and flee from us, not to bring us harm."

"He was relieved when I destroyed that blaster," Raven pointed out, resting a hand against the sign. "And his emotions were more erratic tonight than ever before. It doesn't make sense. The previous heist he was almost in full control of his feelings."

"Maybe that's the trigger for his powers," Kid Flash suggested, looking around. "It happens. You never know. Um… shouldn't we do something about this mess? Or find some way to apologize to the owner?"

"Wayne can afford his own cleanup crew," Speedy stated, still looking off in thought. The chip in his hand, the kid's smirk… something more was going on.

"Hey buddy, what cha got there?" KF zoomed over to his friend, curious what he was so lost in thought over.

The archer clamped his hand shut and put up his best lying face. "Nothing really."

* * *

A/N: Roy subconsciously recognized Dick! So, someone happy now? Wally's talking to his uncle about everything too, but the League gets swamped with other crisis so they haven't been much help with Slade or Renegade, if at all. B doesn't entirely approve of teenaged heroes and therefore isn't involved with them. That will change shortly. X3

That was the hardest fight scene to write out! I had to pause and play and rewind that ep so many times... and so many people to put into it... I just about died doing it. So don't own it. I really wish they didn't have such a large cast to account for constantly.

Well, things are coming to a head. Why didn't they figure things out earlier? Because in order for this to be close to canon, I had to drag it out and get to this scene! Nothing would make sense if Dick just magically popped up in Jump and started stealing if he wasn't Robin first. All the before chapters you went through, was to make sense out of everything. *sigh* and like I told people before, arcs aren't posted until they're done being written. whew... back to work!


	64. Sacrifice-16-Probes

It was a bit tricky getting the next scene done right with the way I've been writing him, but had to include as much as I could. Things are going to click now, but everything will be figured out tomorrow. Enjoy DaddyBats and Big Brother Dick! ^^V

Dick-16/17 Jason-13 Cass-11/12 Tim-9 Damian-3

* * *

**Sacrifice**

_16 – Probes_

Slade was going over security footage of the fight, pleased. This job was a true test for the lad. Not only did he have to steal from 'Daddy Bruce', but he also had to prove his resolve when he fought the Titans. Them or his siblings. Really shouldn't be a hard choice. Renegade hadn't held back except for not using the thermal blaster. One little push though and he did exactly as he was told.

"My apprentice is progressing even faster than I had hoped." He grinned as he spoke to himself. "All he needed was the right… motivation."

"Motivate this!"

Dick dropped right in front of him, throwing his fist clamping his mask, straight into his master's face. The anger coursing through the teen had built itself up all the way there. Slade had pressed the button. Slade had used the trigger. He used those probes he injected into his family and the Titans! The pain heroes near his age had endured was worse than anything he ever felt, ever seen, and he made a three and nine year old take it! Cass and Jason could handle it better, but he never wanted any of them to suffer again! They both endured so much… The stress of those probes would have killed the younger two! How dare he… How dare he!

Unfortunately Slade caught the punch and squeezed his fist until he was too far forward to keep balance. The man threw him backwards, forcing him to flip into a landing several feet away, too close to the monitors. He glared purest hatred upon his captor, wishing him dead in a million ways. How dare he… How dare he… They were just kids!

"And here I thought you'd grown past this stage," the man stated coolly, sighing a bit. "Then again, I hadn't tested you like this before. Should have seen that coming. Still," he got out of his chair and approached the teen, smirking to himself, "that was vicious, dishonorable, and ruthless. Excellent work. You're becoming more like me every second."

Horror filled him along with his rage. He was nothing like this guy! Nothing! He wouldn't threaten innocent lives! And he certainly wouldn't take any! As Dick drew back to launch another attack, Slade threw a punch towards him. Reflexively the teen dodged, missing another punch and a kick before trying to land a hit of his own. He lost control of his momentum and Slade slipped his arms under his and lifted him off the ground, putting both hands on the back of the kid's head to force him to stay in that position. The acrobat tried to struggle against it but the man whispered in his ear.

"Do you really think this is a good idea apprentice? Fighting me when I hold the very lives of your family in my hand? Defying me, after promising you would do _everything_ I want?"

Dick froze, realizing he was the one putting his siblings in danger now. He started to tremble, then to shake as he stopped resisting the man's hold on him. His master held him like that a minute longer in silence before dropping him to the floor. His landing was less than spectacular and he felt weaker now than he had in weeks. The adrenaline he was running on was starting to drain away.

"Do not forget who you belong to _apprentice_. Your life, and their deaths, are in my hands." Deathstroke walked back to his favorite chair then looked back to the boy on the floor. "Now, the device from Wayne Tech."

The broken teenager had to take a deep breath before getting back to his feet and making his way to his master. He took the piece out of his belt pouch and handed it over, head down. He did not want to see the satisfaction in that man's eye. Nor the anger that was sure to come. "What's this? A piece is missing."

Dick didn't even get to put on a surprised look before Master grabbed his shirt and threw him into the chair. "Where is it?! Where is the guidance chip?!"

"Guidance chip?"

The man thrust him against the chair again, trying to jog his memory. "The red chip that was right there!" He pointed to an empty slot, barely visible to anyone. There was a place someone could slide the chip out from, but only if they had the technique right. "Where is it?!"

"I don't know!" Honestly, the teen had no idea what kind of chip it was. He just knew how Bruce was about security. Things floating in an empty room were usually distractions or something being presented to an investor. If there was anything of real worth floating though, it would be hidden within the display. He saw a chip, and figured that was it. He could trust Roy with it. Dick grew up in a circus and with younger siblings. He was showing off card tricks and sleight of hand for years. But lying convincingly like this was just starting to become second nature to him. "I swear I don't know! It was like that when I got it!"

Master glared at him for a moment before roughly letting him go. Whatever that chip was for or who was supposed to buy it, it had to be big. Dick would have grinned to himself if lives weren't in danger. He couldn't slip, he couldn't. Not even for a second. Not again. He got people hurt enough that night.

His master left the chair, peeved as he made it back to a desk not too far off. "Get to the showers, now."

Dread and fear took over the boy again, making him freeze up, internally sick again as his body screamed in panic. Not again. Please not again! Master saw his stillness and glared. "Must have left Mexico too soon."

Setting the device on the desk, he grabbed the teen's arm roughly and pulled hard. Petrified, Dick tried to resist, struggling weakly against the stronger man's grip only to hear his master's voice drop to an icy tone. "You know what's coming apprentice. I do not tolerate disobedience, of any sort."

Dick flinched, every part of him rebelling as his master took him away. His strong mask, his stone mask he worked so hard to put up, destroyed so easily in one night. Why couldn't he just have those probes in him and die that night instead? It was far more preferable than this living hell.

* * *

Bruce brushed the hair out of his little boy's face soothingly, trying to comfort himself as much as he was his son. Damian had an oxygen mask over his face and was sleeping easier now, but the memory of the pain he had suffered was fresh in both their minds.

In the neighboring bed was Tim, resting as well. He didn't need the extra oxygen anymore and the other two didn't need any at all. Jason had walked himself into the ambulance even when it arrived, no complaints. Cass just needed someone to hold on to in order to make the trip. The younger two were carried.

He moved over to Tim's bedside, pulling his sheet over his sleeping form nervously. The boy had nearly yelled his throat raw during that strange attack, begging for his father. In the ambulance he was crying and asking for him, Alfred, Selina even, and Dick. Hearing his pleas for all those he trusted to take away his fears, and not being able to supply them, tore at his heart. Damian needed constant attention and the paramedics wouldn't let Alfred come with them.

The toddler had stopped breathing for a moment. It terrified him to the core.

Now in the hospital, all four children were being checked out and looked over. Blood work was being done as he sat there on each of them. X-rays, MRIs, every test they could do on children safely was being done. Jason and Cass were the ones going through most of them since they recovered faster, and their old friend Leslie Tompkins was with them the entire time. Alfred was going between the two parties constantly, keeping each side apprised of the other's progress.

Come to think of it he was due for another visit. "Master Bruce?"

The man didn't look up at his name, just brushed Tim's hair out of his face to calm himself down. The boy turned into his touch, breathing a little easier now. "Yes Alfred?"

"A car is waiting for you." Hearing this, Bruce jerked his eyes up and at the doorway, glaring slightly. His eyes softened to surprise when he saw Jason and Cassandra coming in with Leslie. Quite a bit of paperwork was in her hands, along with a confused and concerned expression.

What she had to tell him had to wait a moment. "Why? I have no intention of leaving."

"Your meeting with Mr. Yakamura and Mr. Turstile is in two hours sir." The butler's firm hand was still in place. 'Keep calm and carry on' played in his features. "You will need that time to compose yourself for the meeting."

The CEO's jaw clenched, highly perturbed. He would have raised his voice if there weren't children sleeping. "I'll have Lucius reschedule it. Under these circumstances, I'm certain they'll understand."

"Actually Bruce," Leslie started, motioning him out the room, "there's something I really need to talk to you about."

The man hesitated for a moment before looking over to the other two. Both were tired, barely staying conscious on their chairs. Honestly they should be laying down and recovering from all the tests they underwent and whatever had happened to them before dawn. But Cass was fine leaning back in her chair against the wall and Jason gave his father a look telling him they'd be fine for a few minutes, he'd protect them. The teen really learned to step up the past few months. He put a hand on both his older children's heads, gave them a slight smile, then followed the family doctor into the hallway.

"Okay, what is it Leslie? What happened to them?" The door closed silently behind him, keeping the conversation private. "Was it poison? An electric pulse? Some meta ability? Or do I have to go to the metaphysical to get my answers?"

"You might have to." Keeping her voice low so only the adults could hear, she passed him the test results and folded her arms, confused and concerned. "We've run every test we can think of and found nothing. At all.

"You said Damian had all the signs of a fever and a heart attack, except his skin glowed orange. And all the others right?" The men nodded as Bruce flipped through the results, taking everything in. "Well they certainly have the signs of surviving them, but none for a cause. I've never seen anything like this before. There is no reason I can find for four perfectly healthy children to have any of that damage.

"All I can say for certain is," she looked at the door and the beds within, "if it happens again, Damian will die. It's likely Tim will either die or become a cripple. That's if the next event is as long as this one was. Longer, and I would say you'll have four dead and one missing."

The man's face turned white at her conclusion, his face freezing with barely contained fear. Looking through the results in front of him, he knew she was right. All the symptoms, all the end results, none of the causes. It didn't make sense! What happened to them?! According to these tests, nothing and yet something. Something bringing his kids to knock on deaths door.

There was something startlingly familiar about all of this, something he felt he should look into. He'd need more time to look it over and figure out why. He passed the papers back to his father's friend. "I want a copy of all of his sent to my email as soon as possible. There's something off about this."

"Agreed," Alfred butted in, "especially since I have never heard of any kind of sudden illness that makes a person glow orange."

"That is certainly the strangest side effect I've ever heard of." Leslie looked through the results, even more confused by the moment. Bruce never saw her like this. She was always the one with all the answers growing up and even now. But here, she was clueless. "I can't think of a scientific reason why anyone would light up like a light bulb like that, and orange of all things. You would need a strong yellow light to make a patch of skin change like that, and I don't think it could happen on four sleeping children without their knowledge."

"Have you shown these findings to Allen?" Bruce had called in the forensic officer once Damian was stable, wanting one of the best scientific minds he knew take a look at everything. A fresh point of view from someone who dealt with the strange daily helped too. And the man would want to know. He would have called Clark as well, but Superman was off planet taking care of some asteroid problem. Only a handful of Leaguers really interacted with the kids in the end.

"He came and went," she informed him. "Said he was getting straight to work comparing results, but it would take a while. Is he a doctor?"

"No, forensics. Different angle." He looked back through the door to where his children waited for answers. If only he had them. How many times had he failed to come through for them as of late? He was no closer to finding Dick than he was two months ago. All the clues he gained weren't enough to find him, at least not yet. And that brief magical visit he had with his eldest only added more questions and much more worry. Now the rest of them had suffered pains worse than death with no explanation. Some detective he turned out to be.

"Really think that will help?" Leslie tried not to look at the kids. She hated not getting to the bottom of a medical problem, especially for the Waynes. They'd suffered enough already.

"Possibly."

"But either way it will take time to find the source of this ailment," Alfred reminded them. "In the meantime, there is a crucial meeting for Wayne Enterprises in less than two hours that needs attending."

"I'll reschedule." He gave him a chiding glare. How could he think of a meeting at a time like this?

"Must I remind you Mr. Yakamura was extremely hard to correlate with Mr. Turstile? Mr. Fox was quite specific on how important this meeting would be to your employees and your stockholders." The butler's stare down had just as much of an effect on him now as it did when he was a child. The meeting really was supposed to bring the stock back to where they were last year, and they needed that in order to continue keeping League activities under the radar. Plus the jobs it'd provide people across the country and the security that came with working for a branch of his company would help the nation as a whole. He really shouldn't miss this meeting.

"But…" He looked over to where his children were, hesitant to leave them. They needed him, right then, right now. He couldn't just leave them in their time of need. What if there was another attack? Or some discovery explaining all this? Leaving them now would prove him a bad father, and he didn't want any of them to resent him in the future, or ever.

"I will stay with them sir." Alfred put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "We both will. As soon as Masters Timothy and Damian are ready to be moved, I will take them home. Should not be more than a few hours. I will inform you immediately if there is any change."

Looking at his surrogate father, Bruce knew he would do just that. This man was better at keeping his word than he. Furthermore, he would protect them in his place. It wouldn't be the same, but it would do. Slowly, he nodded before saying a word, guilt filling him slowly at the resolve. "I need to talk to them first. Exactly where is the car parked?"

* * *

He did not want to be there. His driving and his grumpy face were proof enough of that. The coffee he was holding onto while he reviewed the meeting's agenda was about all he was happy with. These days he practically lived off the stuff, and with how this one started…

A knock at the door nearly turned him into an angry beast. "What?!"

Lucius Fox slid into the office, concern and surprise on his face. He had a tablet in his hand, but nothing regarding that put him on edge. "I'm beginning to think you should have ignored Alfred's advice to come in. I can do the meeting without you if you—"

"I've spent most of today in the emergency room or ICU. Let's just get this over with. What is it you want me to look at?" Bruce looked at the iPad the man was carrying, glaring darkly. He was not in the mood for this. He just wanted to get back to his children and get to the bottom of this, the sooner the better.

Sighing slightly, the man passed the tablet over. "Footage from a robbery early this morning. One of our buildings on the west coast lost an important government contracted guidance chip meant to guide space probes. LexCorp was our lead competitor for that contract but—"

"Can't this wait?" Seriously, with everything going on around him, losing a chip that probably had a self-destruct encoded into it was hardly worth his time. He eyed the tablet but didn't grab it yet.

"Your instructions were to bring up any criminal event that involved vigilantes or metas, especially if a member of the Justice League was involved immediately." Lucius set the tablet on his desk, serious yet even doubting his own decisions. "The Teen Titans fought the perpetrator on top of the building and there was some serious damage done to the sign. And the guy got away with the device. Half of the team is associated with the League so I thought you'd want to see the footage yourself. Everything about the break-in is included, but the fight was quite interesting. I heard the press is calling this guy the 'I'm Sorry Thief'."

Bruce's eyes narrowed a fraction before looking away from his files to the tablet screen. It was his duty as the League's watchdog and lead information source (and technically owner) to keep informed about all their activities, especially when it involved one of his buildings. Even the Titans, a group he largely left alone, were of interest to him when they fought on his roof. He had to hold the screen up for a better angle then pressed play.

Ten seconds into the feed his eyes widened in surprise, his coffee falling from his hand and spilling all over his desk. "Dick…"

"Bruce? What's wrong?!" His second in command nearly gaped at him in his stunned state, ignoring his ruined cup flooding his desk and hot liquid ruining the wood and papers thereon. His boss didn't respond to him, just kept watching the video feed. One hand started to cover his mouth as he started to breathe hard, caught between disbelief, joy, and shock, his heart in his throat. Tears were even springing in his eyes. Lucius grabbed his shoulder and shook him slightly to get his attention, worried about him. "Bruce!"

"It's him," the man murmured. "It's Dick."

His coworker blinked in confusion. "What?"

"Is this all the footage?" He kept his eyes on the acrobat, watching his every move. Though the mask hid his identity rather well, it couldn't hide his movements. Bruce taught Dick most of those strikes and punches, even the tactics, but that wasn't what cinched it for him. The boy always moved with grace through the air, soaring like a bird in flight. His technique was unique, and he knew it better than anyone. This was his son.

"No, just the best angle. What did you—"

The CEO jumped to his feet and quickly grabbed his suitcase and keys, tablet still in hand. "I want all the footage and anything else you have about this thief's activities. Every recording, every image, every mention on every site and paper. Every rumor there is, I want it sent to my computer before I arrive home."

"Wha—But the meeting!" Lucius was seriously confused now. What had Bruce seen?

"Cancel it, or you take care of it." The man was nearly to the door, practically running. His lead executive nearly had to chase him down for answers. Nothing was stopping him now.

"Bruce, what's going on?! Why are you—"

The billionaire practically shoved the tablet into his face, freezing the image on the teenager who was stealing from them. "He's Dick. Dick's the one fighting the Teen Titans in San Francisco. And winning."

Lucius blinked, taking the tablet in hand and seeing the image in a new light. "Oh my G-d…"

Bruce was out the door before the other man could even look up, moving with a speed that'd make Flash jealous. He knew where his son was as of that morning, and if he saw the timestamp correctly, that fight was around the same time the others suffered that attack. Batman never believed in coincidences, and Bruce learned long ago they rarely ever occurred. They were linked together, somehow.

* * *

A/N: And now he knows! everything will be put together in the next chapter, and after that we have the rescue and recovery. Which will be interesting. *evil laugh*

So the probes lasted two minutes and their full effects will be explained later. Damian and Tim won't have any long lasting effects so long as this is the only time, but it was a close call. It was kinda hard trying to figure out what happened to the Titans except for pain, so I did my best. Leslie is a character I should use more but haven't found opportunity to. Don't know her very well.

And Dick tries to take on Slade, realizes his mistake and shatters all over again. the only thing he succeeded to do was protect Bruce's company, to a degree. Roy kept the chip for a bit FYI. Dick did his best to do what he could. Ah well. Tomorrow then!


	65. Sacrifice-17-Jigsaw Puzzle

And this is how they figure it all out! This is one huge scene too so prepare for a lot of reading. I think you'll get an idea who my second favorite family is in DC land. I know I haven't had them much in this world, but there hasn't been many opportunities until now. Enjoy!

Dick-16/17 Jason-13 Cass-11/12 Tim-9 Damian-3

* * *

**Sacrifice**

_17 – Jigsaw Puzzle_

"What are you doing out of school?" Barry Allen was just dropping by his house to pick up a new suit. Captain Boomerang nearly shredded his last one. Then he had a lot of work to do.

Wally West was lounging over the island in his kitchen, sluggish and unceremoniously waiting for food to magically appear. Or his aunt and uncle, whichever happened first. Ditching school and staying with his folks was definitely out, so he stayed with the cool ones who wouldn't get on his case for being sluggish after the night he had. "Got our butts whooped last night, by that kid again. Big time."

His uncle nodded a little cringing. "That sucks. So… you're talking about this guy Renegade right? The 'I'm Sorry Thief'?"

"Yep." The speedsters talked all the time about different cases, in both the League and the Titans along with their own in Central. The only ones Barry didn't talk about involved 'B' and his kids. Some kind of deal the two made or something. Since Iris West-Allen was the only other person who lived there and knew the truth for some time, this place was safer than most for them to talk. And the best place to unload all his frustrations. "The guy's a criminal, beats near all of us to a pulp, which is really weird because he doesn't have any powers and took us all down flat, and then expects us to believe he's sorry? What's with that?"

"Maybe he has his reasons." Barry brought out a couple of his patent-pending food substitute bars, handing one to his nephew before starting one for himself. It'd hold them over until he could bring out some sandwiches.

"Pft. Yeah right. The only reason I can think of is that he works for Slade!" Wally shook his head, starting to eat his snack. "I mean, that guy's twisted. Seriously twisted. He's got this thing for us and isn't telling us why. You'd think a guy who worked that hard getting a kid to beat us up would monologue for a few minutes on why he hates us."

"Some people don't need a reason." The man finished digging every possible sandwich item from the fridge and cupboards, shrugging at the teen's wonderings. "Take that guy in Gotham, Two-Face, for instance. He—"

"Oh not another Gotham crazy again." Honestly, the young speedster wished the League and his uncle didn't have anything to do with that loony-bin. The whole place was crazy. Been there only a handful of times, each with his uncle, and he was convinced the place wasn't worth saving. Why did 'B' like that place so much?

"He's just an example." Barry gave his nephew a chiding look. "You know how he got those scars on his face?"

"Cut himself shaving?"

"Acid was thrown on him during a court session." Wally cringed in sympathy, but the guy was still nuts. "Harvey Dent was already having some problems with his life, but it threw him over the edge. According to what I've read, ever since that day he's blamed Batman for what happened to him."

"Batman? He's real?" Even he heard about the urban legend. He hadn't been heard from or seen in over eight years, but stories of him were enough to scare criminals for good. Even some civilians.

"Very. But that's beyond the point. Dent has no reason to hate him or blame him, but he does. Crazy people have twisted logic." His uncle shrugged helplessly as he finished putting together a sandwich for himself. "For all you know, he's blaming you for something he caused or an accident, and you happened to be there."

The teenager thought about it for a moment, stacking himself a large sandwich as he thought it over. It was starting to give him a headache. Sighing and shrugging, he started on his second lunch. "Still think he's crazy. Why else send a teenager to beat us all up?"

"How did Renegade manage that anyway?" Barry was debating telling the rest of the League about this kid who was giving the Titans so much trouble. This guy had to be really good to take down eight experienced and superpowered teens, half trained by the Justice League. If one kid who supposedly had no powers could take them down at the same time, possibly kill them, it didn't bode well for the rest of the crime fighting community. The master had to be better than the student, and with two team killers…

"Aahh…" Wally hesitated, embarrassed as much as ashamed. He really didn't want to remember it. "Well, mostly he tricked me into falling off the building and Garth had to save my tail, then he kept throwing people into me. Guy's good at throws. There was this strange glowy hurty trick he did in the middle of it that made it easier I think but—"

"Wait, what?" His mentor held up a hand to stop him, blinking in surprise. "Rewind. What kind of trick?"

"Glowy hurty? That's what Gar called it." He cast him an inquiring eye, letting his sandwich remains droop in his hands. "Ever heard of a meta making someone feel like their insides were on fire without touching them? Maybe brought out from stress?"

"What color?" The man's heartbeat started to accelerate.

His nephew blinked, confused. "What?"

"What color did your skin glow?"

"Orange…"

"Fever? Weakness after? Trouble breathing? Lasted just over two minutes?" It couldn't be…

"Uh… yeah, something like that. You know what happened?"

Wally just looked at his uncle, slightly weirded out by how many details he had spot on. And all the man could do was gape at him in shock. Course that was his 'everything's beginning to fit' look, so this really boggled his nephew's mind. He took a momentary breath before asking, "When… exactly was this?"

"Uh, very early his morning? Uncle B, what's—"

Barry grabbed the boy's wrist, heading to the door, determination growing on his face. Something had clicked. "C'mon. We've gotta run."

"For what?!" He struggled against his uncle's grip, seriously confused. "What's going on?"

"I'll explain when we get there."

"Get where?!" What was going on? Why was his uncle freaking out like that? He never saw him act this way before, ever.

"Call it the League's second base of operations." The teenager blinked at him in surprise. Seriously? No longer struggling, Wally didn't realize until he was over halfway to the coast that they were running. Before he knew it, he was in a cave, and not a nice cave like the one in Mount Justice. This one had stalactites, stalagmites, bats, and… His jaw dropped when they stopped, his uncle looking at a large chair facing a computer while he looked elsewhere. "B! Problem! We've seriously got to compare notes!"

"Tha… That's a… dinosaur." The teenager's eyes were locked onto the T-rex adorning one corner of the cave. He entirely missed the chair swiveling around or the frozen images on the giant computer. This place took over his mind.

"My thoughts exactly. I was actually calling you right now," the man looked over to Wally (who was still gaping at everything in the cave), "to bring him. Searched his body for a rash yet?"

"Rash?"

"Whoa!" A flock of bats swooped over Wally's head, narrowly missing him as he ducked in surprise. His eyes followed them for a while, until he saw a black armored suit in a lit display case. A large black cape and cowl reminiscent of a bat shadowed most of it. The bat within a yellow circle on the chest cinched what it was. "Uuuhhh…"

Slowly the teen turned to the two men talking, eyes widening to the size of saucers as they continued to talk. "The others have unexplainable round rashes about the size of a penny on their bodies. Arm, leg, neck, posterior. Jason said the pain started in his arm, where his rash was. Tim's disappeared months ago then reappeared this morning. It was in Leslie's report. Didn't you read it?"

"Boomerang got in the way," Barry looked back to his nephew, looking him over briefly as if searching for something. "Barely managed to get the file home and I had to stop a couple robberies on the way back. That's when I ran into Wally. Hey, it itch anywhere?"

"Aaauuhhh…" Wally just stared and started to point at the man in the chair. "That's… Ba…"

"I thought he had a 3.8 GPA." Bruce gave his ally a frustrated glare while the other bit back his embarrassment.

"Yeah…. Wait." Barry jerked his head back to the billionaire. "How do you know his GPA?"

The detective's glare intensified. He wasn't in the mood for this. Thankfully Wally found his mouth. "You're Batman…"

"Among other names."

"Wally West, Bruce Wayne. Or the mysterious B. Bruce, my nephew, AKA Kid Flash, which no doubt you already know." Barry did a quick set of introductions before looking back to the imposing man in slight confusion. "I just put two and two together about him having the same attack your kids did ten minutes ago. How did you—"

"Find that rash and I'll show you." The man turned back to his computer without a second's thought. Exasperated, the speedster came to his nephew's side and started physically searching his body short of stripping him. The teen was stock still, just gaping at the cave owner's chair.

"That's Batman."

"Yeah, he is."

"He's real."

"Very."

"He's B?"

"Yep."

"And Bruce Wayne?"

"Yep."

"_The_ Bruce Wayne?! The billionaire?!"

"One and only."

"Unbelievable…"

"No, his temper is unbelievable. Wally focus." Barry snapped his fingers in front of the boy's face. They were talking superfast and could only be understood by each other, so they weren't about to get into trouble with the big scary bat. "We need to find that rash. Without it we can't prove you and the kids have the same symptoms. Is there any place that's been itching today or ever in the past… B?! When did their rashes first appear?"

"Late November, early December. Hurry it up." Bruce was not a patient man. Thankfully he was still working his way through several weeks' worth of articles and footage to focus solely on the speedsters.

"Auh…" Wally struggled to remember if there was any for a moment before remembering something. "There's been this off and on itch I think. From where Slade's weird beam hit us around then."

"Slade?"

"Where?" While the Bat looked back to him in surprise, the teen pointed to a spot between his shoulders for his uncle to inspect. Barry pulled up his shirt to get a good look at it, answering his ally's question. "Slade's this villain the Titans fought off and on last year who has some kind of vendetta against them. He's got this apprentice now they've been having trouble with going by Renegade."

"The 'I'm Sorry Thief'?" It was more of a clarification than a question.

"Yeah, that's him." Wally pointed to the screen showing the thief's appearance at one of his many heists. "Slade said his name was Renegade. The guy doesn't talk much."

"How did you know about this?" Barry put his nephew's shirt down, glaring slightly. There as a rash, just like Bruce said there would be, and it had an orange tinge to it. The fight from that early morning played on one corner of the screen as Wally smiled nervously.

"We, er, kinda destroyed his sign during the fight." Guilt flooded the boy, wanting to take a step back. "Actually Renegade did it. And just the big glowing letters really."

"What does Slade look like?" The man's lack of reaction to property destruction encouraged the teen to talk.

"We aren't really sure, but we've pieced together a few things. He's probably in his late thirties, early forties. Really well trained and… I'm sidetracking. Ah…" He looked to the side remembering for a moment. "Somewhere between Uncle Barry and your heights I think. His mask is half black, half orange and splits right down the center of his face. Oh, and he only has one eye."

"Do you have any pictures of him?" Bruce looked straight at the teen, a slightly pleading demand in his face. An idea had come to his mind, but he wanted it confirmed first.

Nodding he took out his Titan com which doubled as a link to their computer files. "Yeah, in here. Gimme a sec."

"Think this Slade's responsible for what happened?" Barry came to the computer, looking over all the stills on the screen, confused. The thief didn't look like much, but he was familiar in a way. What was his link? And why did the detective have magnified images of his hands?

"I'd bet my life on it." Hearing his words, the speedster looked over him, worried. There was definitely more to this than the man let on. "Found him yet?"

"Just a sec… Got it." Wally hesitantly came to the computers where the adults were and showed them the image of their worst rogue. "This is Slade."

Both the men's eyes widened dangerously in surprise before one turned on the other who went straight to typing. "What the hell?! I thought Interpol had him!"

"Apparently not."

"What's he doing fighting the TEEN Titans?! I thought he had a _code of honor_! And kids _their_ age!"

"I can't read minds Allen! I don't know why he's out or in San Francisco or fighting them!" The man was trying to dial a number on his computer, taking out a headset to make it private.

"Then how did he find out about you?!" Barry threw his arms around emphatically. "I can see him going after the Titans because of the rest of us taking him down last time, but you weren't even there! And you're so paranoid, you put security traps in every tunnel coming in here!"

"I don't think he figured me out," the man admitted, trying to calm his voice down for the call he was trying to make.

"Wait, you know this guy?" Wally tried to interrupt but was largely ignored.

"Then explain why his apprentice is fighting the Titans on your building at the same time your children are attacked!"

"THAT'S DICK!" Bruce pointed at Renegade on the screen, glaring frustration and pain at his friend. Barry's mouth stopped, he and his nephew gaping at him. What? "Slade Wilson kidnapped him to make him this 'Renegade' and has used not only his siblings' lives, but also the Titans' lives as blackmail to force him to do his dirty work!"

"What?" The speedsters just stared at him slack jawed. They were about to ask him again when the other end of his call picked up.

"Selina, where are you?"

"Uncle Barry? What's going on?" Wally looked over to his mentor, bewildered and shocked at the same time. And with everything being thrown at him at once, who would blame him.

Barry sighed a bit, trying to figure out where to start. "Your 'Slade' is actually Slade Wilson, AKA Deathstroke the Terminator. He's one of the best assassins in the world, more importantly a mercenary for hire who said he'll do anything but treason once. Former US military and subject to some government super soldier project that failed. Some people call him the world's greatest tactician. We took him on a couple years back and barely managed to get him into custody. We _barely_ managed to take him in, and only because B was in our ears and watching our backs. Interpol is the only organization who can keep him under wraps politically due to who he's worked for.

"And apparently," he winced, looking at the teen on the screen, "he's the one behind Dick Grayson's kidnapping."

"Who?"

"Selina, you have to get out of there." The man was very intent in his phone conversation. "Get out and disappear. Make sure no one can link you to the investigation."

The older speedster continued to explain what he knew, at flash-speak rates. "His son. Well, first adopted son that is. He was the guy you heard over the com when we took down Joker with Speedy, remember? I showed you a video of him on youtube from Halloween. Dick's an amazing acrobat. Vanished leaving everything behind just before Christmas in a crazy warehouse. The League's been looking for him ever since."

"Why the League?" Things weren't quite clicking in the teen's head.

"Originally? Because of a deal we made with Bruce here. We take care of Gotham and save his family whenever they're in danger, usually kidnappings, and he takes care of us financially, keeps our IDs under wraps, and takes care of investigations we're having trouble with. Brought about the end of quite a few criminals. I've told you about B before and how good a detective he is. He's been invaluable to the League, and he's a friend. We've all grown attached to him and his kids, particularly Dick. When the FBI put the kid on backburner, we've kept our eyes out and do whatever we can with each new piece of evidence. And looks like we just got our answer."

"No, it's not that." Bruce was still on his line, missing all of the explanations. "Ever heard of Deathstroke?"

"Wow…" Wally blinked at his uncle in surprise. "So they're kinda like the League's first family? And Slade took the heir apparent?"

"Kinda looks that way doesn't it?"

"Whoa…" He looked back to the bat who seemed even more worried now than before. Or he thought it was worry. Angry getting worse meant worried right? "Okay… who's he calling?"

"No idea." Barry looked over to the definitely worried scared man hiding everything with a scowl. "He's still a mystery, especially when it comes to sources and women."

"He took Dick." The frustration in the man's voice was reaching its peak. "I have confirmation. Get out of there. Disappear for a few months. Wait until he's home and the press dies down to come back. I'll wire everything to your accounts."

"Girlfriend?"

"Probably. Or a really valuable source."

There was a twitch of a smirk on the bat's lips before he went back to scowling. "Paris, Bahamas, they're all good this time of year. Just make certain the next time I hear about you, you're not dead or incarcerated."

Bruce took off the head piece and breathed just a little easier. His hands went flying across the keyboard, bringing several hand images to the forefront. "Jason, get down from there and take a look at this."

"Jason?" The speedsters looked around and nearly jolted when they heard a small curse above them. Soon a thirteen year old with a white lock in his black hair landed on top of the monitors, then flipped over them all to get to the ground.

"Ah, for the record—"

"You came in while Barry was checking under his nephew's shirt." The man didn't even blink as his son came down to the ground, focusing mostly on the screens. His guests on the other hand were starting to freak. They were beginning to panic-talk in superspeed.

Jason pouted a bit. "I came in because Damian's crying for you and Alfred's peeved you missed that meeting."

That made him cringe. "This is more important than a meeting. I'll get to Damian in a minute."

The teen nodded then came closer to the screen, looking once at Wally. "Hey there. Take it you're now the League/Titan liaison, right?"

"You cu… How did… What the…"

"Do you encourage your kids to crazy dangerous stunts?!" Barry turned on the actual father there, glaring slightly.

It was returned with annoyance. "You put yours in tights and the line of fire."

"Oh hey!"

"Tongue tied huh? Whatev. You found Dick." Jason stepped up to the computer, now ignoring the speedsters and staring at the screens openly. Naked hope clearly shown from his face. "And he's connected to what happened this morning?"

"Yes."

"Then why are we looking at hands?" He pointed out exactly what their guests were thinking, if they weren't reeling from Bruce's commentary. He had a good point about risks both their charges were taking.

"Because Dick left us a message," the detective stated evenly. "Has been from the beginning of these heists."

"What?" Wally stepped forward, surprised there was anything in the feed other than thefts and the Titans getting their heads handed to them.

"Dick learned sign language when he was six from the cannon men at the circus," Bruce explained. "He used to sneak messages to me during parties. Signing 'I'm sorry' at each incident gives him an opportunity to sneak in one or two letters before disappearing again, without looking suspicious."

"What's not suspicious about a kid breaking into some place and signing an apology at the camera?" Barry pointed out.

"It's not security or the police who'd be interested."

"Slade!" Wally put it together pretty quickly. "He was trying to hide a message from him!"

"He wasn't out of that man's sight in a populated area without supervision. What the message is," he grunted in frustration, "I haven't gotten to yet. Just finished searching still images of his hands in each robbery. They're in order but not much else."

"Um…" The redhead cocked his head, looking over the pictures. "I don't know sign, but even if I did, it looks like gibberish."

"P, L, M, A, E, R, P, M, E, A, L, R, P, E, L, M, A, R, P, A, M." Jason's translation made his eyes narrow slightly. "There's almost a pattern here."

"Seriously?" Wally looked at the kid in surprise. Where'd he pick that up?

"He's right." Barry typed on the computer for a moment, bringing the images up on a side screen. "The same six letters over and over again. 21 total, so I'm thinking the pattern's been interrupted. Four P's, A's and M's, three L's, E's, and R's."

"Palmer." Everyone looked over at the man, each with a different level of confusion. "He was signing Palmer."

"And that's helpful how?" Wally cocked his head confused. Palmer?

"I thought Slade took Dick," Barry interjected, ignoring his nephew. "Why would he bring up Ray? He's one of us."

"How'd you get Palmer?" Jason's question rang over them all, getting Bruce to answer first.

"In the six letter sequence, the first and sixth letter was a P and a R. Everything in the middle was scrambled. Most people don't read whole words but just look at the letters. If the first and last letter is right and all the others needed are there, you can still understand what the word was. It's the way the brain works. Dick and I had a conversation about it last year. Some online meme he ran across…" The man's eyes worked rapidly, thinking as he explained further. Things were clicking in his head. "If you could only give out one message and knew your enemy was watching you while you gave it, what would you give your intended audience? The name of your kidnapper who has something over you, or the solution to it!"

"You lost me after 'meme'." The older speedster gave his ally a confused look. "Are you saying that instead of giving his captors name, he gave us Ray's… because he could fix this?"

"Ray Palmer's a leading expert in nanotechnology," he explained, typing rapidly. Evidence he had gathered, reports from multiple sources, were displaying themselves on the screen. "The person who took the phones in Star went to Ivy Town next. His experimental nanoprobe generator was taken early November, along with the plans for injection devices and their operating programs."

"Where is this going?" Barry asked before he could be side tracked further.

"In theory nanotechnology can either assist in healing a body," the detective clarified, eyes narrowing darkly, "or destroy it from the inside out. Sensations would include fever, cardiac arrest, lung inflammation, and possible nerve damage."

They gaped at him, realization coming to each of their faces. Wally pointed to himself slowly, dread coming to his face. "I have those things inside me?"

"Likely. Dick wouldn't point us in Palmer's direction if he wasn't involved."

"EEWWWWW!" Both boys cringed back in disgust and horror. Inside them were…

"Would it leave any evidence?" Barry was already thinking back to the first day of all of this.

"Very little if any. It would appear as if someone just died of natural causes unless their tissues were put under a high powered microscope." Bruce glared at the technology he had at the cave, frustrated. "Most internal causes for death can be detected in a mass spectrometer or autopsy, so I never bothered to get one. Ray Palmer should be able to confirm this, and rectify it."

The Bat looked down in thought for a moment before coming to a decision. This had to be taken care of, now. "Jason, grab a jacket and a backpack. You're going to Ivy Town."

The teen blinked at his father for a moment before breaking into a broad grin and running off. The speedsters looked at him in confusion as Bruce left the computer for a specimen fridge off to the side. "You two better suit up for your visit with Palmer. Jason will carry the samples from Shereen Macamyre, the first victim."

"Wait… we can't take a kid with us." Wally was just barely getting past the creepy feeling of having little robots in his body. Why would they take some kid with them?!

"Yes we are." Flash had already changed at superspeed, focused and driven. "Before ourselves and before taking on the bad guys, the civilians are our top priority. He has probes in him and so do the rest of his siblings. Dick knew it and he is risking everything in order to save his family, along with you and the Titans. If one of the cheeriest and justice minded kids I've ever known can become a criminal to save you all from Deathstroke, then you can let his kid brother take a ride on my back cross-country."

"You'll have to inform your friends anyway," Bruce reminded him, sliding a box out of the fridge and into a second container to keep it cool and safe. "Jason and the others are the least of your worries. Once the probes are out of your bodies, you're going after Wilson. Slade. And you're going to get my son out of there."

"What?! Take on Slade?" Wally interjected, still having a hard time taking everything in. Too much all at once. Just too much! "We can't even beat your son! Why not the League? Isn't that deal—"

"We're going to have to play this one out carefully." He glared intently at them both, driving the point home. "To protect identities and to ensure Dick doesn't do anything rash, we have to think ten steps ahead and cover all our bases. We're fighting a world class tactician with thirteen lives in the balance directly, and many more theoretically if you fail. If he sees the League first, we can't guarantee success. He activated probes from the other side of the country. I'm not taking any chances, and neither are you."

The Titan looked down, letting the weight of what was said sink through. This really was riding on him wasn't it? Him and the Titans. If they could get past Slade's insider trick. Flash locked eyes with his ally. "If this works, you're bringing over the others right? How are you going to—"

"I'll work out the details with identities and finances with Palmer later. And I have some legal matters to take care of." Bruce glared to the side, not happy about any of this. "Along with a few other… matters to make the search above board. Lots of tracks to cover."

"Think you can handle it?" From the corner of their eyes, they could see Jason returning. A red baseball cap, hoodie and backpack, plus some sunglasses, now adorned his excited form.

"When haven't I?"

* * *

A/N: X3 so, that explain what's going on so far? I just love speedsters who are also forensics experts/detectives of a smaller degree. Wally was brilliant here, especially with the dinosaur (which I believe is the first thing most people see in the cave and boys would oggle for a moment) and putting everything together with his uncle. Now that he's an active character in the know, in the future he and Dick will start having fun. *evil laugh*

Now all the secrets are out. Due to secret identities and making sure they succeed, I'm sorry, but BATMAN AND THE LEAGUE WILL NOT BE APPEARING. gotta keep this close to cannon and they weren't in TT. and the rest of the world doesn't know the direct connection between the League and Bruce. Majority of the kidnappings have been suppressed from the news so Dick getting rescued by them in Jump when they have their own superpowered team would be suspicious. To keep the Wayne secrets safe, this is how it has to roll.

In our next episode, Slade gets beaten to a pulp. Enjoy!


	66. Sacrifice-18-The Light

ready? I hope so. Thing about the chapter title. It's about the Light at the end of the tunnel. Nothing to do with YJ, my other love. Enjoy!

Dick-16/17 Jason-13 Cass-11/12 Tim-9 Damian-3

* * *

**Sacrifice**

_18 – The Light_

Dick tried to focus on the plans before him, he really did, but his mind was scattered. It happened after spending some time in the cooler, wet, cold, and with nothing but the darkness around him. He nearly went a month outside one. A month! Well, he was sure it was a month. He had done nineteen heists, occasionally two in one night, and never two nights in a row. And in one instant he had ruined that record. After finally managing to patch himself up after those other times, he was thrown back in, beaten even. He really screwed up that night. And he was still suffering for it. He couldn't concentrate. If master noticed, he would be punished more.

He didn't know how much he could take. How much could take before he exploded and forgot what was really at risk? How long before he cracked and forgot who he really was? Not much longer if he knew right. One more cooler visit and he might just take his own life.

Concentrate!

Before him was a Kord Industries building plans'. He had to get to Theodor's lab and take a special piece of technology being studied. Rumor was, it was alien tech. Dick knew he could probably ID it as one of two alien races' tech, Atlantian, Amazonian, or something made on earth that was just odd, but he wasn't about to tell his master that quite yet. Whatever the piece was, Master wanted it and no amount of security would stop him from having Renegade get it. And this place had good security. Not the same as Bruce's systems in the cave, but close enough.

"Best point of entry would be here." Deathstroke pointed to an air duct on the north side. "Never thought of the Kords being this paranoid, but I'll give him credit for being thorough. If you hack the motion sensors like I taught you, you should be able to come and go as you please. No cameras this time." He narrowed his eye at the teen. "You don't want to fight the Titans, don't get caught. Bad enough the thermal blaster didn't kill the Tamaranian."

Dick suppressed a shiver as he nodded in acknowledgement. His master smirked to himself, pleased. "I have to know, who is Barbara?"

The teen froze before murmuring, "My… ex-girlfriend. They looked alike at a glance."

"Hm. Well-chosen words." Master pointed back to the plans. "Now, this section here—"

An explosion destroyed the table between them, green for a moment before it turned into a fiery yellow. Bye-bye plans. Both leapt away from the flames and looked towards the source of the shot. The teen gaped, wide eyed and terrified as he saw the Titans standing there before them, poised to fight.

"Leave him alone!" Starfire roared over the gears ever in motion around the room.

'_What are they doing here?!_' He had his mask on, he and his master, which hid exactly how surprised they were to see them. Dick's heart raced at the sight of them, panic and worry eating away at him with every breath. Hadn't they learned anything? They should be the ones leaving him alone!

"I've had just about enough of you Titans…" Slade growled, eye narrowing dangerously.

"Yeah?" Speedy drew back an arrow, glaring daggers at the evil man. "Well we've had it up to here with you!"

"It's about time someone put you down Slade!" Wonder Girl tightened her grip on her lasso, ready to catch the man once and for all.

"You sick creapo! Using kids to do your dirty work!" Cyborg pointed at him, truly disgusted with the guy. "What? Can't get adults to work for you?"

"Bet you're just a big old pedo-bear!" Beast Boy near shouted getting nods from his friends who understood and confused ones from those few who didn't. Dick cringed back at that comment. He knew that wouldn't go over well with the man, especially since he spent days in the back of a U-hall for saying the same thing, alone.

"That's it." Master's cool voice hid the definite snap inside him. The teen hesitated, glancing once at his master for orders though he knew what was coming. The trigger was already in hand and half way down. The Titans were falling over, groaning just as they started coming. "Renegade! Take them out!"

Renegade darted forward, ready to make the first definite strike. He'd make it quick, for everyone's sakes. He was just about to throw the first punch when Cyborg looked up at him, grinning impishly. "Psych!"

'_What?_' The apprentice jerked to a stop in surprise, eyes wide behind his mask. '_Psych?_'

"Titans Go!" Wonder Girl shouted, and all of them got to their feet, running or flying past him to fight Slade. Confused and startled by their sudden energy, Renegade just gaped at them as they pass by him, doing nothing. They weren't buckling over in pain…

"By the way," Speedy came within inches of his ear, grinning impishly, "Jaybird says hi."

"Jay?" Dick jerked his head around at the archer and caught his confident smile. A spark of hope lit inside him. '_Did he say Jaybird?_'

"We've got this Dick." Raven stayed with him while the others contended with Slade, their enemy. Her job was to help him as the others fought. "Your family's safe. We know the truth now. About the probes and the threats over our lives. We went to Ray Palmer and got rid of them. Everyone's going to be fine."

He gaped at the empath slack jawed for a long moment before collapsing to his knees, struggling to breathe. All the stress, all the darkness, the worry and panic, everything that tortured his waking thoughts since that day in the warehouse, fell off of him in waves, quickly being replaced by relief and joy. The Titans hadn't reacted to the probe detonator. Roy knew who he was. He said Jason was alright (indirectly). Raven confirmed. They were there, saving him.

They were safe. They were all safe.

He was free.

Weak kneed and shaking he just looked at the ground and air before him, everything that had happened flying through his head at the same time knowing it was over. These thoughts consumed him as he sat there for a few minutes, ignoring the battle going on behind him. His master's shouts to get up and fight were completely ignored. He didn't have to obey him anymore. He wasn't his master. The cries of the Titans as they battled Slade as a team were lost to his ears. He didn't have to fight them anymore. Raven telling him over and over again to get up and get out of there meant nothing to him. He was free to make his own choices again. But when he heard heavy familiar footsteps racing in one direction, shouts and exclamations coming from the team behind him in surprise and frustration at his running, a new thought consumed him.

The nightmare wasn't over, yet.

"Get out."

"What?" Raven's voice was filled with confusion while his gained strength. Anger was building inside him with every word he spoke.

"The haunt is rigged to explode." Memories of everything that had happened to him, of what that man made him do, of what that man did to him, of the lives that man hung over his head, of the people he hurt, killed, filled him with one emotion far too strong for the empath to ignore or smother. Purest rage consumed him. "He's not going to get away!"

"Dick!"

The acrobat shot a line above him to the catwalks above them while the others started to scatter and run, throwing Raven back in surprise. Speedy and Kid Flash gaped after him, ready to go after the guy and stop him from running to who knows where, but gears were falling at their heads. Even the flyers couldn't go after him because of the debris coming from everywhere. The person they were trying to save was gone.

Dick made it to the rafters and catwalks, a part of the building that wouldn't explode for a few minutes, and the exit strategy his master had set up weeks ago. Never hurt to be prepared. And knowing this beforehand made it very easy to corner the guy before he made it out of the building.

And sure enough within a few seconds the injured assassin, with his mask half off, was running around the corner. Seeing the man surprised for the first time was a rare treat. "Renegade…"

Dick was perched on the catwalk's railing, seemingly expressionless. Like he had been the entire time he was obedient to his 'master'. It made the man drop his guard a little. "See you've chosen sides wisely. Let's get out of here."

"No." The teen's voice dropped to dangerous levels, despite the explosions around and underneath them.

"What was that?" The anger in the man's voice normally would have scared the kid, but this time it only added fuel to the fire burning within him.

"I'm not going with you. I just thought you deserved to hear a secret." Twisting and snapping the rail he was on out of place, he lunged at the man who terrorized him for so long. Slade was not expecting a vicious attack from him, at least not then and there. He barely managed to block the makeshift staff from cracking his skull open.

"Oh?" Deathstroke managed to keep his voice level, despite having to twist and toss the attack to the side as they talked. He barely dodged another blow as he leapt back a step, taking out his own staff. "And what would that be apprentice?"

"I didn't learn how to fight from you." Dick bounced from rail to rail, diving at the man again, poising his staff into a thrust. It was sidestepped, boy and all.

"I already know that." He aimed an elbow at the boy's back as he passed, but he twisted at the last moment, throwing a powder from his belt into the man's eye, effectively blinding him. He bit back his pain as they continued fighting, the acrobat rolling back to his feet to lunge again. "How about something significant?"

"Did you ever ask where I learned? Why I learned?" Anger boiled within him, but he kept his voice level. Alfred would be proud. It kept his opponent guessing. He swung his staff against him, each blow parried and turned away as they danced in their fight.

"From Wayne's tutors no doubt," Slade managed between blows. "For your protection."

"Wrong." Taking advantage of the guy's momentary surprise, Dick crashed his poll into the guy's hand, smashing his fingers and forcing him to let go of his staff. A quick punch with the man's other hand forced him to retreat for a moment, flipping backwards. "Bruce taught me everything."

"Oh? So that man isn't entirely useless." The assassin lunged forward, swiping his staff at him with one hand. Not near as effective but managed to push the kid closer to the edge. The catwalk shook from the explosions around them, forcing both of them to readjust their balance before throwing any more punches.

"He did it to channel my anger after Zucco killed my parents." Dick leapt upwards, swinging his staff towards the man's shoulder to incapacitate him, but Slade stepped out of the way a second too soon. Didn't stop him from japing the poll into his abs just after landing. "Didn't work."

"Couldn't tell." Sarcasm dripped from the man's lips as he aimed a kick at the boy's ribs. The kid arched backwards in time with it, only receiving a slight scrape from the man's boot. His own boots managed to knock his armor out of place, enough to make it uncomfortable. He knew the man already had a bruise there from an earlier blow. "You seemed so content in Gotham."

"That was because of the real secret. My secret." The acrobat glared death upon the man as he lunged at him again, landing a kick into his chest, his head, and falling to the ground for a swipe kick so fast it could only be called a single move. "Batman didn't take down Tony Zucco eight years ago!"

Slade fell backwards, landing poorly and dislocating his shoulder as he knocked against the railing then the ground. Dick propelled himself into the air with his staff and landed on the man's chest, purest rage on his face at last. "I did!"

The teen pointed the staff straight at his captor's face, making his point clear. Everything was seeping into the man's brain at long last. Dick's big secret. "I was the one who tracked him down and beat him senseless! I chased after him! I made him fear God! He had a heart attack and died because of me!"

'_I killed him._' The unspoken words passed through their minds, their eyes linked for that one moment. Dick's big secret, the one thing he didn't want getting out, even if it was only an eight year old's logic taken too far.

"You have no idea how I felt after that." He swiped the poll across the man's head, knocking him unconscious. Dick glared at his captor, remembering his feelings back then and his feelings now. There was no one he hated more than those two men at that moment. They had caused him so much pain… tore him away from his family… killed solely for profit… One had never faced justice properly. He could end this one so easily right then and there. But a slight screech rang in his ears, reminding him who he was.

Gritting his teeth, the teen boy let go of his staff and ripped the metal 'S' off his shirt, throwing it next to the guy's ear angrily. He grudgingly pulled the knocked out man to his feet, half carrying him, half dragging him, over to the secret exit he was originally headed to. "You're only alive because I never want to feel that again."

Around them the building exploded and everything fell to pieces.

* * *

"Where is he?!" The Teen Titans were safely outside the building's total collapse, but their main reason for being there wasn't. Neither was Slade. A crowd was starting to form, mostly interested warehouse workers and a couple squad cars, but nothing big yet. Wonder Girl and Cyborg were working the cops while the rest searched the rubble for a sign of their targets.

So far not a single sign of either of them.

"You do not think…" Starfire worried as she flew over each and every angle of the place, some parts larger than others. It was a fairly big building.

"He has to be alive!" Kid Flash fretted about, looking everywhere he could. Beast Boy ran around as a hound dog, sniffing for clues while Speedy and Aqualad ran around the rest of the lot. Maybe they were fighting outside somewhere when they weren't looking. Raven was meditating, trying to find them her way. "His dad'll kill me if he isn't! And my uncle!"

"Calm down!" Speedy insisted, knowing he was right and could add quite a few more names to the list of would-be murderers. After hearing the truth from KF, he was even more determined to get to the bottom of this. He was going to save his friend. "He's here somewhere! Gothamites are resourceful! If I know anything about this guy he'll-!"

About twenty feet away from where the front door used to be, they saw the top of a metal plate shift. They watched with baited breath as it lifted and upturned itself, revealing an exhausted and dirty Renegade. They all tried to converge on his position, wanting to call out to him, but all the debris made it difficult to get there. And what name would they use? He leaned down and picked up the man who had kidnapped him ages ago and wreaked havoc on the city for so long, carrying and dragging him out of the rubble.

The teenaged heroes nearly gaped at him, trying to run interference, as he took the villain through the debris field and walked straight over to the policeman closest to them. He dropped the man at the officer's feet before any of them could reach him, breathing out slowly before reaching to his face. The Titans jerked forward, wanting to stop him, but none were fast enough to prevent him from taking off his mask.

Eyes and face revealed, Dick looked at the officer, expressionless. The man in blue honestly did not know what to do when the kid put his hands in front of him, towards the officer. Only two words escaped his mouth.

"I surrender."

* * *

A/N: YAY! Dick beat up Slade! I honestly think bats have the advantage over Slade on catwalks. Especially the oldest bird. and that would be Dick's big secret, the one that'd scare those who opposed him. To think an 8 year old took down a mob boss on his own. Sure Zucco had a bad heart and Dick didn't really kill him, but the fact that at 8 he did that without batting an eye should scare any villain witless. And it's been how many years since then? *evil grin*

Then there's Dick's personality. He was planning originally to kill Slade then turn himself in, but since his family is safe, there's no reason to kill him! The screech he heard was a bat's, obviously, and that was all he needed to move forward. Dick turning himself in will bring new factors in but they're worth it. Legal ramifications are going to be fun to deal with.

Oh and on a last note, the titans don't know everything yet. That's for the last chapter. Enjoy!


	67. Sacrifice-19-Station Visits

Heh heh heh... the cops have Dick. There's a good reason behind this. It's the one surefire way of him fixing things and seeing Bruce again. His brain isn't fully functioning yet, but he does know that people who do wrong go to jail. Dick's just trying to be good. Full reunion next chapter. Lots of weird name cameos coming. ENJOY!

Dick-16/17 Jason-13 Cass-11/12 Tim-9 Damian-3

* * *

**Sacrifice**

_19 – Station Visits_

Dick waited in the Jump Precinct hallway, siting on one of their random chairs and staring at nothing. Thinking about nothing. He wasn't even trying to escape those simple handcuffs he was wearing, nor fidgeting from boredom. It was almost relaxing just sitting there, lost in nothing, at all. Numb.

Didn't even look twice at the soda placed into his hands, or even the man who handed it to him. "Thought you might like a drink. Do you like this flavor?"

"It's fine." He took a sip, not noting the flavor at all. The officer over child arrests looked over him with concern. To think this was the kid who easily broke into multiple buildings and fought all the Titans into corners. He wasn't proud, disappointed, guilty, cocky, or any of the usual emotions he saw when a teenager was arrested. And considering how much he accomplished as a criminal in such a short time, he expected something. Not even caution at the drink. He just took everything quietly, obediently.

He only saw this reaction from victims of abuse and neglect. The officer pulled a chair away from the side of the hall and put a clipboard on his lap. There was some paperwork to do. "My name's Jarvis Stark. I'm with the Jump District Civil Services as a liaison with the SFPD. I need to ask you a few questions before the police can get to the bottom of this. Think you can help me out here?"

"Ask away."

Seeing the broken down boy answer automatically, no emotion, pained Jarvis greatly. He thought he saw a hand twitch when he said 'civil services' but he might have been imagining it. He clicked his pen, looking back to the paper work instead. "Name?"

"Richard John Grayson."

"As a costumed criminal, you had an alias I assume." He glanced up at the kid and knew he saw his hands tighten around the can. "What was it?"

"Renegade." Dick's voice was softer but spite came with it. At least he wasn't completely deprived of emotions.

"Alright. Age?"

He blinked realizing something. The acrobat looked at him for the first time. "What's today's date?"

That made the officer blink in surprise. He didn't know what day it was? "Thursday, April 27th."

The teen nodded and looked at the can in his hands again, eyes barely focused. "Seventeen."

"Birthdate?"

"March 21st."

Jarvis nodded, understanding a little. "That explains the question. Place of birth?"

"Nebraska."

He looked at the kid curiously. Just a state? "Can I get a city?" There was a touch of disappointment in the way the kid shook his head. Maybe he was born on the road or in a cabin. Nebraska wasn't all cities after all. "Okay… Parents names?"

Dick's hands clenched a bit as he spoke. "John and Mary Grayson."

"And what's their phone numbers?"

"They don't have any." His head drooped a fraction more, quieting himself. "They're dead."

"Oh." '_Crap!_' the officer cringed inwardly. Orphan. Now he was a ward of the state. That meant bringing in a lot more paperwork and a lot more complications. He was hoping this case might be simpler, a runaway who was attracted to the excitement of criminal life by this 'Slade' guy. "Ah… how about the name of your last foster parent?"

The kid clamped up, shrinking slightly into himself. A lot of kids did that, shrinking back from when they were last seen in the system so they wouldn't be sent back or get into trouble. Definitely a victim of abuse here. Well he was seventeen. He didn't have to go back. "Okay, scratch that. What can you tell me about your boss?"

"Slade Wilson, Deathstroke." The words rushed out of his mouth, almost as if he'd been wanting to tell someone for ages. Guessing by his actions, he probably had. "Mercenary, assassin. Wanted in several countries, warrant for his arrest available on the Interpol website. Caught by Justice League a year and a half ago when he was hired to target the princess of Kosvach. Broke Green Lantern's arm, Aquaman's clavicle, twisted Flash's spine, and sent Wonder Woman into the ocean."

"You know quite a bit about him." That… was a pretty interesting report. Detailed too when it came to the League, especially their injuries.

Dick turned away again slightly, his bottom lip quivered slightly. "I liked the League."

Seeing the way he felt guilt mentioning the League, he put down his pen and asked the one question that buzzed in his head and several others once they knew he wasn't working alone. "Why were you working for Slade then? If you liked the Justice League, why work with a killer?"

"I didn't have a choice." His voice dropped again, threatening to become silent. "He was going to kill them if I didn't become his apprentice. I did what I did to save lives. But it wasn't enough."

"What?" Jarvis could tell the kid was referring to something traumatic.

"The massacre at the border before we got here. That was him." His head was nearly touching his hands in guilt. "I couldn't stop him. I couldn't…"

'_Oh g-d… he saw it happen…_' This was one seriously screwed up kid, and he knew it. No wonder the boy was so quiet. He placed a reassuring hand on the boy's shoulder trying to comfort him. "It's not your fault. If this guy could do all that to the Justice League, then what could you do to stop him? You did everything you could."

His words had no effect on the boy. He still had his head down, eyes unfocused, and shoulders hunched over in shame. Now he knew where to put the teen in his mind; he was a victim forced to become a criminal, but was honestly a good person at heart. He was just dealt a horrible hand.

"Stark?" The man looked up at his name, seeing a lower ranking officer coming towards them with an orange jumpsuit. "The examiner's here and the kid needs to get cleaned up and changed."

Dick automatically stiffened, eyes widening in fear. Jarvis noticed it but not the guard. Something the man said put him on edge. "I'll take him over there when he's ready."

"Orders say now." No wonder this guy wasn't a higher rank despite his age. Jerk. "Come on kid."

To the interviewer's surprise, the teenager obeyed and followed, taking the can with him. Jarvis followed after them, noting how the boy downed the can and dropped into the recycling bin along the way, keeping his head down. It made him think. He had to get a child psychologist down there soon, and talk to the Teen Titans. He thought he heard a couple of them demanding to see their former enemy earlier. Clearly they knew more about this than he did.

* * *

"I still say this is a waste of time." Sargent Kendal glared through the one way mirror to where the psychiatrist was talking to their former Renegade. As far as he was concerned criminals were criminals, no matter what kind of childhood they had.

Jarvis Stark gave him a sidelong glare, still flipping through the files and official reports the Titans had handed him half an hour ago. From them he determined how much the kid had actually told him, and how much he left out. Even the Titans were leaving things out, to protect his 'family'. They provided proof of nanoscopic probes being inside their bodies and that of four others (all younger than them) until a day or so ago. These probes were treated as miniature bombs and a trigger found in the warehouse wreckage was linked to them, ready for Slade to use at a moment's notice. Unless the boy did exactly what he was told. He really was saving lives.

The medical reports weren't very encouraging either. From them he could conclude Richard had undergone near military training regiments, along with other signs of abuse. He had bruises, cracked bones, fractures that hadn't fully healed, and fresh scar tissue over fifteen percent of his body. Most of these injuries had occurred within the past four months. There were also signs of poor nutrition, changes in water consumption, exhaustion, and weight loss. The only kind of abuse he could say didn't happen was sexual. At least Slade wasn't a pedophile. The psychiatrist would be able to determine how much damage was done to him mentally and emotionally.

"The courts would say otherwise. Have you ever looked at things from the criminal's point of view?"

"Not if I could help it." Kendal had to admit this was the easiest to handle juvenile delinquent he'd seen in years. Almost a good little soldier. Maybe he'd get a deal and join the military as part of his parole. He had cooperated with his investigation from the beginning after all. Gave up exactly where the goods were taken to and whatever buyer he knew about. His men were looking at the safe houses as they spoke. The kid even beat up and turned in his boss for them (who was currently being restrained in a special isolation cell meant for metas at the moment after receiving some medical treatment). Still didn't mean the kid wasn't a criminal.

"Now, Richard," the lady, Dr. Pendergast, started with a smile, "I'd like you to relax here with me for a moment. I'm not here to hurt you or accuse you of anything, I just want you to look at some pictures for me and tell me what you see."

Dick blinked once then nodded, hands cuffed to the table before him and wearing an orange jumpsuit. They got him to wear it, but when he resisted taking a shower or going near water, Jarvis had stepped in and talked the authorities to let him stay dirty for a while longer. He was a smelly inmate before even having a trial.

The psychiatrist didn't like having a teenager in handcuffs but she brought up the inkblot pages anyway. She had a job to do, and the kid really looked like he needed someone who couldn't shoot him to talk.

"A rabbit." She nodded. Normal answer for that one.

"Squirrel." Another went down.

"Giraffe."

"Elephant."

"Big Top." This made the woman blink and look at the picture itself. It kind of looked like a tent, but the phrase 'big top' wasn't usually applied to the image. Plus the kid looked away from the image for a second. Circuses must mean something to him.

She flipped another card and continued. "Island."

"Tree."

"Mesa."

That made her blink as well. "Mesa?"

"That's what the rock formation's called, a mesa." She nodded, learning something new. Either the kid liked geography or he traveled a lot.

Flipping another card, they went on. "Truck."

"Book."

He hesitated slightly before answering the next one. His voice wavered as he spoke. "Superman."

Pendergast eyed him for a moment, not entirely surprised he wavered at this one. Many people saw the diamond formation on that page and said 'Superman'. It was how they said it that made an impression on her. He knew the man of steel would be disappointed with him, and he was very disappointed with himself.

Another page turned and he closed his eyes after a look. "Blood."

'_Doesn't want to see blood. Someone died in front of him._' She turned another page, hoping for another normal response. Instead the boy flinched and turned away, his breathing quickening into a near panic attack. He licked his lips nervously before saying a word, very weakly at that.

"A bat."

The shrink blinked and looked at the image herself. It usually made people say 'butterfly', 'bird', or 'moth'. Once in a while it was 'bat' but never had she seen that reaction. Neither had the people behind the glass. Kendal was confused while Jarvis was surprised to see that much emotion from the kid. He jerked away from cleaning, but this was different. It was as if seeing a bat was painful for him, heartbreaking even. His fear was linked with sorrow. Why would a bat do that?

"Do bats frighten you?" The lady used her best concerned mother voice, setting the image down between them. Dick refused to look at it, trembling slightly, but shook his head slowly. "It's okay to be scared of bats. They scare me too. Bats can be very scary creatures. Violent, mean, and messy. They—"

"I'm not scared of him! I'm not…" Dick put his head in his hands, practically touching the table. His audience just stared in surprise as he shook and tried to regain control over himself. It didn't take long. After a minute of silence, he flipped the picture over, hiding the bat from view. He didn't want to see it. Didn't want to think about it. About anything. "He helped me and I betrayed him… I'm sorry…"

"It's okay Richard." Dr. Pendergast put her hands on his, letting him calm down. "It's okay."

"Is there a cape or a fanatic in Nebraska who has something to do with bats?" Sargent Kendal wondered out loud.

"I… Don't think he's really from Nebraska," Stark offered, staring through the glass at them. "Just born there."

"Then where the hell is he from?!"

"No idea."

* * *

Raven was finally allowed to stay with Dick in the hallways of the precinct. The others were either taking on Control Freak down town or fighting with the adults when it came to Dick's case. The black and white policemen were saying he was one thing while the specialists argued another. It was getting very annoying. If only they'd listen to the Titans a little more. They were the ones he really hurt after all, and he had cooperated with everyone as soon as he knew the real danger was gone.

And yet they were still arguing. Loudly.

"He's a victim!"

"He's a criminal!"

"If you would just review the evidence—"

"He stole tech from fourteen electronic firms! What more evidence do you need?!"

"Look!" Wonder Girl tried to make everyone see reason. Wasn't working out too well. "We have documented proof he was under coercion! His family's lives were in danger!"

"The Titans' lives too," Speedy added.

"He said he was an orphan!" That was the Sargent. He really was a frustrating guy. "Making him a ward of the state!"

"He's in a state of shock!" Stark insisted with some back up from the psychiatrist. "Look, he's given you everything you've asked. Even told you where to find the stolen tech."

"Everything but the Wayne chip."

"Actually," Speedy interjected, sounding very awkward, "I've been holding onto that. He flicked it at me that night before disappearing."

"There, all the stolen objects have been recovered, no harm, no foul."

"Doesn't stop the B & E charges, assaulting an officer, trespassing, and being an accomplice to murder! Had he asked for a deal—"

"STATE OF SHOCK!" Dr. Pendergast repeated. "He can't make a coherent statement about what had happened to him directly! Let alone make a deal before telling you everything you want to know!"

"Quite a mess isn't there." Raven looked over the boy, sitting in a chair again and staring at his hands. "You know, if you told them everything this could be cleared up faster."

"Doesn't matter." Dick took a sip of the drink he was given, eyes so far off no one could tell if he was thinking at all. After weeks of his screaming emotions hitting the empath, it was strange feeling nothing from him. He was frozen inside, numb. He honestly didn't care what happened next. And she couldn't figure out why he felt nothing now.

When he learned of the Titans being probe free along with his siblings, relief and joy pushed aside everything else, still spilling out of him. When he took after Slade he was consumed by rage and the need for vengeance. When he left the rubble though and came to the officer, once he dropped Slade to the ground and surrendered, nothing was left in him. It was as if he gave up.

"I'm a criminal," he admitted, almost as if he were reading her thoughts instead of her reading his feelings. "I did all of it willingly. It may have saved lives but it doesn't change the fact that I still did it. By law I have to be punished for what I did, regardless of reasons."

"Not everything is black and white," Raven tried to tell him. "Cases like yours—"

"It doesn't matter. I may have beaten him physically," a spike of regret came from him, still sitting there expressionless, "but in the end he won."

The Titan opened her mouth to speak but realized she could say a million words and they'd mean nothing from her. State of shock? More like the worst guilt trip in the world leading into chronic depression. It would take more than a compassionate jury or a plea bargain to clear this young man's conscience.

The yelling continued, going back and forth about the evidence, his word and all the cooperation they were getting. Someone ran into the office after ten minutes saying something about the FBI coming in and missing persons, but it brought the volume level so far down neither of them could hear it. Raven grew tired of watching someone who had no intention of running, talking, or doing anything, and drew away to a nearby corner to meditate.

Several minutes passed and several officers as well. Lawyers, judges, criminals, the world passed them by, some going into the once noisy office and others pretending it didn't exist. Voices were raised again as a lawyer joined the argument/discussion about the boy's future, but they ignored it. The 'I'm Sorry Thief' was willing to accept whatever punishment they gave him.

"Dick?"

The cup he was holding on to slipped past his fingers as he heard his name, eyes widening in surprise. Raven's eyes opened at the sudden spike in emotion from the teen, just in time to see him turn and look at the one who called out to him. Slowly, in disbelief, he stood up, staring at the man.

"Bruce?"

Halfway down the hall stood Bruce Wayne, a similar expression on his face to that of his son's. Relief, joy, sorrow, disbelief, they all poured out of their faces as their eyes met. The older man took a step forward.

And Dick sprinted down the hall in the opposite direction as fast as he possibly could.

* * *

A/N: Tee hee! I made Dick run away! He's scared of what Bruce will think of him, seriously scared. He also doesn't want him to say anything because he's seriously confused and messed up in his head. So much fun! reunion is next chapter and it's full of fluffy goodness

Now the reason this isn't on the 6'oclock news is because 1-he's a minor, 2-no one's quite sure where Slade falls in the system (national security risk, local menace, international fugitive, ect), 3-Dick isn't that famous, especially on the west coast, 4-Titans and Bruce have been keeping it suppressed. I may not know all the rules about minors being arrested/put in police custody, so if anyone wants to help the extended version by explaining it all to me, please do. My intel comes from cop shows.

now for everything else, I've got a headcanon that puts Dick as a roadside baby, not foreign born. I put him in Nebraska because I thought it'd be reasonable. He may know Romani/Romanian, but only because he took the time and effort to learn it. His native tongue in my worlds is English. He's now 17 and has spent 4 months in Slade's hands. I think that's enough time to get all those injuries and become traumatized by water while becoming an extreme fighting machine. Fun times.

For the most part, Wintergreen gets off scott free here. I may have a conclusion including him in the extended, but that's in the air. the massacre at the border will be explained in the extended too. There was a lot more I wanted to put in this chapter, but I cut it back. Hope you've enjoyed! Fluff tomorrow.


	68. Sacrifice-20-Reunion

Be ready for some resolution! not all, but a lot. To those who thought Dick was a bratty teen before, he's learned his lesson and will be less of a brat from now on. There's a between scene that'll take place in the extended version, but this is really good as is too. Enjoy! Extra kudos to those who name the lame name cameo I put in. =P

Dick-16/17 Jason-13 Cass-11/12 Tim-9 Damian-3

* * *

**Sacrifice**

_20 – Reunion_

It took longer than Bruce wanted to get all the paperwork taken care of. And to get to California. He had to make sure his lawyer had all he needed to get Dick home as fast as possible. He could work his way around the media with his contacts and his money, making sure there wouldn't be a circus waiting for them, but convincing them also meant making the local police put out a story of possible terrorism involvement. So far no one outside a certain circle knew Dick and Renegade were the same person, and he could name them all. Since the teen had taken down and turned in an international criminal, his friends in the FBI, CIA and Interpol were more than happy to help save the kid's future.

Hiding what had happened was the easy part. Making sure he could bring Dick back though was harder. His lawyer, Stan Lease, was quite competent and helped him find all the necessary paperwork needed to make it easier. After explaining some of the process and receiving copies of everything he had on Dick's case (donated from an 'anonymous' detective), the probes, and even some photographs Tim had accidentally taken, capturing Slade Wilson in the act of infecting Damian and stalking Dick the previous year, he was ready to take on the challenge. They only recently discovered the pictures when the kid was going through them on his iPad the other day. Before they knew it, they had a strong case to take the teenager back home without any dire consequences.

Bruce was elated to finally make it to the San Francisco Jump District Police Department with Stan and would not wait for the authorities to bring his son to him. As soon as his lawyer was taken into the office where others deciding how to proceed with his case and an opening in security could be seen, he took off to find his long lost child. It didn't take long. When he saw him, it was like a nightmare and a dream at the same time. Impossible to believe. After four months of searching and waiting, there he was.

Dick was cradling a cup, wearing an orange jumpsuit like a convicted felon. No handcuffs surprisingly but there were marks on his wrists telling him it was a recent development. His hair had grown past his ears and uneven, hardly kept. He lost weight but from what he could tell the boy had grown a couple inches. Even from this angle he could tell his muscles had become better toned and he lost some color to his skin. When was the last time he ate? He slept? There were signs of dirt and soot on his skin, and quite a few fresh scars. The most unsettling thing though was his eyes. They weren't shining like they always did. They were dead, like how he was when he took him out of juvie hall over eight years ago. Except worse. He was truly defeated, broken.

What had Wilson done to his boy?

"Dick?"

In an instant everything about the boy's demeanor changed. He dropped his cup, eyes widening in surprise. His back straightened from its hunched over position as he slowly turned his head to see him. His eyes lit up, color returned to his face as his jaw dropped. He really hadn't expected him to come. He slowly stood up, locking eyes with him. "Bruce?"

His voice, filled with disbelief and shock shook him slightly, but it was good to hear it anyway. Bruce took a step forward, ready to reach out and hold his son again, if even for a moment.

Instead Dick bolted in the opposite direction, a panicked expression on his face. The teen was fast, and the one person close enough to stop him was blown over for unknown reasons. Bruce blinked in surprise for a moment, just as the door opened for the arguing parties to try and include both father and son. The Sargent barely saw orange run away from them and griped. "Great, he's rabbiting!"

"Oh he would." Quickly and with no explanation, the former vigilante darted forward, chasing after him. He spent four months looking and waiting to see his first child again. He'd be damned if he was going to let the kid vanish from him again. Seeing a blur of orange going into the stairwell, the man had a fairly good idea what the kid's path would be, and went straight to the open elevator. Dick was always faster than him when he put his mind to it.

Over Dick's head he could hear an alarm going from the Sargent. Escaped suspect. Possibly armed. Considered dangerous. Take down by any means necessary. Cover exits. If only he were really trying to run from the cops. What was he really even running from?!

As he leapt from stair railings and into the fourth floor's doorway, thoughts and memories poured through his head. Batman telling him about criminals being superstitious and cowardly. Slade putting him in that box. Yelling at Batman in the cave last Halloween. Meeting Superman for the first time. His parents falling to their deaths. Beating up bullies who threatened Jason. Talking to Roy at a charity ball. Scaring the ones who pestered Timmy. Running through the trees of Mexico. Talking to Selina on top of Wayne Tower. Zucco falling to the ground and having a heart attack. Learning to fight from Bruce. Sparing with Cass. Being hosed down by his master. The promise to be back before dinner so they could talk. Making cookies with Alfred. Fighting the Teen Titans. Giving Damian his favorite Batkitty. Getting thrown around by Slade in training. Fighting bad guys at Halloween and the interviews after. Kissing Barbara behind the gym. Bruce wrapping up his injuries after falling off the chandelier so they could go to Leslie's. Flying with Uncle Clark over golden fields of grain. Fighting Slade all out for the first time while the building exploded. Getting a pat on the head and a 'good job' when he aced his first quad from his dad. Receiving the same when he aced a math exam he thought he would fail from Bruce. Shouting at Bruce, knowing it'd hurt him.

'_You're not my father Bruce! Stop telling me what to do!_'

Why had he said it? His head hurt and his heart felt like it was going to break in two. He didn't deserve him. He… he was… Tears burned in his eyes as he kept running, flipping over and dodging between people in order to get away. Just to run away. He didn't care if people were trying to catch him. He just had to get away! From those thoughts, those memories.

Before he knew it someone had grabbed his arm and pulled him to a stop. He knew exactly who before he even spoke. "Dick enough! Stop—"

"I'M SORRY!" Dick screamed to high heaven and back, tears dripping down his face as he was forced to turn towards the one thing he was now running from, and at the same time wanted to run to. "I'm so sorry! It's my fault! It's all my fault! They got hurt because of me! I'm sorry! Dad I'm so sorry!"

Bruce just gaped at him as he fell to his knees, sobbing uncontrollably with one hand gripping his head. "I should have listened to you! You were right the whole time. I'm so sorry! I've been such a brat! I broke every one of your rules! You warned me and I didn't listen! I put them in danger! Got them hurt! I should have listened. I'm sorry. I'm sorry!"

"Dick…" The man loosened his grip on the boy's arm and started coming down to the floor. His mouth wouldn't work but Dick's kept going.

"I became everything you hate! Everything you fought against. Didn't want to but he made me… I'm sorry! I'm really sorry! They got hurt because of me! I hurt the Titans! I couldn't save those guards at the border! I couldn't save any of them! I couldn't stop him!"

"Dick please—"

More tears welled out of his eyes, unable to stop. A crowd was gathering, but they were all a safe distance away, embarrassed and shocked to see what was happening. "So many people got hurt or died because of me! Because I didn't listen! I'm so sorry! I'm sorry! I broke every rule! Please don't hate me… Don't leave me… Dad please… I'm sorry, so sorry…"

Wracked with tears, he couldn't say a word more. Nothing could be said that'd make up for everything that happened because of his foolish pride. If he had only obeyed rule 5 that Halloween, Slade never would have found him. If he had told Bruce about the stalker-feeling he had afterwards, he could have had the League stop him before he started. If he had only listened to him… told him everything from the beginning…

He didn't realize what was happening until strong familiar arms surrounded him and drew him close. "Hush my little Robin. It's alright. I'm not mad at you. You did everything you could to save as many lives as possible. You made sure we knew what was wrong and who could fix it before considering your own safety. You thought of others before yourself the entire time. If that's not how a hero should act, I don't know what is.

"Dick, there is no one I'm prouder of than you." The sobbing teen looked up at the man, searching his eyes for confirmation to settle his disbelief. He found it, and a smile warmer and more wonderful than anything he'd known in some time, maybe ever. "You did good Robin."

"But…" Dick weakly pulled out his doubts one by one. "I hurt people."

"You didn't kill anyone."

"I stole." All the heists…

"And returned everything."

"I broke things, places." Property damage, the security, doors, signs…

"They can all be fixed."

"I broke every rule you gave me." The rules. There were only ten. And he broke them all.

"You couldn't break rule 1." The thought struck the boy, realizing he hadn't. Alfred wasn't there to disobey. "And you followed the unspoken rule to the letter. Family first, always. Everyone's safe now thank to you."

As his words settled in, weights were lifted from within his chest. If Bruce said it, it had to be true. One thing the man never did was lie to him.

"Truth be told," Bruce started, "I should be the one apologizing to you."

"What?" Disbelief came to the boy's face. He was the one who did wrong, not Bruce. Why would he have to…

"I didn't protect you properly," he admitted, "you or the others. I should have seen this possibility long in advanced. You're very skilled Dick, a natural. Making sure you had a childhood instead of including you in that world… It was a hard choice. I stand by it because no one should have become what I was. But some people don't believe what I do, and they would want your talent for themselves. I should have been able to stop him."

"But I was the one showing off. I'm the one who-"

The man shook his head. "You were only acting out because I was smothering you. I realize that now. Robin can't be caged, and I tried to do just that. You're growing up, almost ready to leave the nest."

Slight panic filled him. "But I didn't want to leave! Please don't—"

"I won't make you. I'll never make you leave if it isn't necessary. Dick," some sorrow entered the man's eyes, "please forgive me for being so stubborn. I'm still learning this whole parenting thing."

He blinked at his father for a moment before smiling graciously at him. "You seem pretty good to me." Dick leaned his head against the man's chest, relaxing against him at last. His hands clung to what it could of the man's shirt, glad to finally be safe, for everyone to be safe. "You're really not mad at me?"

"Never." Bruce held his son a little closer, murmuring his ear and knowing he wouldn't be leaving him now. "I can never be mad at those I care for. Not really. I'll always love you son."

"Love you too Dad."

* * *

Honestly, he didn't know how or when he fell asleep. Just that when he was waking, he was in a soft warm bed much too large for him and in his arms was a familiar worn elephant. A familiar, comforting weight was around his neck, one that jingled merrily when he shifted. The sun was seeping through the window, slowly warming his face. It was one of the best ways to wake up.

Unless something was poking your nose. Repeatedly.

Wincing slightly, Dick opened his eyes. His eyes and brain were in a fog, but as soon as his eyes cleared, so did his mind. His jaw dropped, gaping at what was poking him. "Damian?"

The adorable three year old grinned from ear to ear at his older brother. "Wake up Dick! Awfred make pancakes!"

"Damian!" Instantly he was pulling the little one towards him, hugging him tightly. Tears leaked out of his eyes as he held that little bundle of joy, holding back his relieved laughter but not his overjoyed smile.

The kid just giggled, hugging him back. "Wehcome back!"

"Told ya sending in the cute one would wake him right up." Dick blinked jerked his head around at Jason's voice and saw the rest of his siblings in the doorway.

"Hey! Don't hog Dick all to yourself Damian!" Tim ran and jumped to the bed, barely containing his excitement. "Don't I get a hug too?!"

"Tim!" His older brother let one arm go around the littlest and pulled the second smallest into his chest, crying for joy and kissing his forehead. Tim grinned, hugging his brothers just as tightly. "You're okay!"

"Mostly." One thing Dick loved about this boy was need for accuracy. He wasn't 100% again, but he was good enough, especially since his big brother was back.

Jason and Cass grinned as they made their way to the bed. "Hey there Dickybird! Remember to bring us some souvenirs?"

"Jason! Cass!" The oldest looked ready to hug them too but he did not want to let go of the ones he already had.

"Looks like you ran out of arms there," their sister jibed, smirking. Dick gave a helpless shrug but didn't let go of the younger two. Damian made it a little easier by just crawling into his lap and grinning at them all. Tim just grabbed her arm and pulling her in.

"You want a hug, you come and get it." Cass laughed as she was nearly thrown into Dick, practically squishing their youngest sibling as she took her turn. Tim smirked, hugging her too.

"Will you all just ease up?!" Jason tried to sound angry, but he was still grinning at them all. "Goldie isn't going anywhere! Plenty of time glomp him later, after breakfast."

"Oh cut the tough guy act and just get in here!" Dick reached around their sister and pulled on the teen's arm, nearly toppling over as they all piled on top of him. Pretty quickly they were all laughing, grinning from ear to ear now they were all together again. Damian barely managed to crawl out of the center to avoid squishing, but Tim couldn't manage it. Jason pinned Dick into the pillows for a moment, both grinning at their old game for a moment before Cass and Tim toppled the younger teen off of him. Jason was the first to start throwing pillows at them and Dick turned over a bed sheet on Cass, pinning her into cuddles and hugs like he hadn't given or had in months. Tim leapt onto his brother's back to save her and instead was attacked by them. Only Jason locking him into a headlock saved the kid from being loved to death.

"Are any of you actually interested in breakfast?"

Alfred's voice made them stop for a moment and look at the old butler. He had a camera in hand and Damian was tugging on his lapels, probably anxious for food. Bruce was leaning against the doorway, smirking to himself while he watched them play.

"I'm more interested in getting Dick out of this butt ugly jumpsuit!" Jason picked at the orange outfit the officers made him wear so they could use the other uniform as evidence in his case. Dick used the momentary distraction to get himself out of the hold and twist his brother flat onto the bed. He won. "Uncle! Uncle!"

"Master Jason! Rule 6!" The butler gave him a chiding glare while others giggled. Even Bruce managed a snicker. "Remember there are innocent children in the room."

"He has a point though." Their father straightened, smiling at them. "The police outside the door probably want their suit back. Dick, as soon as you're ready."

"10-4. Uh…" He looked back over to the man inquiringly. "How did I get here? And where is here? I didn't think the cops would have let me out of their custody just because you showed up."

"Considering I'm using the jet as collateral, and how much the psychiatrist and civil service worker supported me in taking care of you after you passed out," the man smirked proudly, "it wasn't that hard. I carried you. We're in a penthouse I bought as soon as we located you. Breakfast anyone?"

"BUTT UGWY!" Damian threw both fists into the air excitedly. They all stared at him for a moment before the adults gave Jason mildly annoyed glares. His siblings roared with laughter, toppling back over onto the bed.

"That was PERFECT!" Jason hollered between laughs. Eventually the two men rolled their eyes and started for the kitchen, leading a confused but pleased Damian out with them.

Soon enough Cass calmed down and rolled off the bed, leaving for the kitchen. Tim tugged on Dick's arm, encouraging him to come and follow. "Come on! We've got pancakes to get to!"

"Alright alright!" The oldest of them laughed a little more. It was good to be with everyone again. Very good.

"Hey Goldie." Dick looked over to Jason just following behind them. The teen grinned at him, relaxed and truly happy. "Welcome back."

* * *

A/N: Awe! Everyone gets Dick back! and he's overjoyed to be back with family. So he got kicked out of shock and depression because of Bruce telling him everything was going to be alright, and seeing his siblings in good spirits cinched it. he's not 100%, which will appear in the next chapter, adn I had to edit out a scene between Dick and Alfred for time's sake. Let's just say, Alfred's the one who first discovers Dicks' aversion to water and starts helping him through it. It'll be in the extended. ;]

I'm kinda guessing Dick could be taken from police custody to Bruce's because of all the paperwork and because he's his dad and Because he's not a flight risk if the jet's in lockdown. Not an expert here. They'll be rushing to get Dick home so the others can go to school (he's really being possessive of them for a while) without too much trouble. If anyone has any legal background, please tell me how it goes with teenaged arrests! or kidnapping victims! I really want this to be right. X[

Hope you've loved the fluff! a stand off it going to happen tomorrow and then the arc's epilogue. There will be events between the epilogue and end, but the epilogue is important so that's being posted first. Then I'm taking a break here. Gotta work on the extended and have other ideas cooking I need to work on. adn have neglected. TTFN!


	69. Sacrifice-21-Dangerous Ends

YAY! More resolution! Now i know Dick finally called Bruce 'Dad' in the last chapter, but I believe he only calls him that under extreme circumstances. It's not going to become a habit. =P Also, I found a way to tie something back into the story and put it here that I said I wouldn't. That's why it's a little later than expected getting today's chapie up. Hope you like it!

Dick-16/17 Jason-13 Cass-11/12 Tim-9 Damian-3

* * *

**Sacrifice**

_21 –Dangerous Ends_

Dick was truly grateful for Alfred's help in the shower. He really wasn't up for any of it, and having the old man there to help meant a lot to him. He hadn't told anyone quite yet what had happened to him all those months, and the man hadn't ask. He just stayed with him. No questions.

He and Bruce must have talked to the others about it too, telling his siblings not to ask any question. Even while they thrust present upon present at him (he missed Christmas and his birthday), then told him everything that had happened to them since that horrible day, they didn't ask him about anything. And he was grateful they didn't. Even he wasn't ready to face it, not yet. He just wanted to be with his family.

"Hey, I think we missed one." Jason picked out an envelope that had slid down from the pile of packages earlier mid story and handed it to Dick. He was telling him about his visit to Ray Palmer that led to them being deprobed and it was rather interesting. Occasionally one of the others joined in, telling their point of view, bit Jason did a pretty good job describing everything. The envelope was a strange interruption. "I think it's from Dad. He's been carrying it in his coat pocket since Christmas."

Reaching around Damian in his lap, he took the envelope and slid it open. Tim leaned in to see what was inside, nearly pinning his arm in place. His eyes widened, his jaw dropping as he took the papers out. His brothers attached to him looked at it in confusion, asking what everyone wondered. "What is it?"

"A ticket." It was more than that actually. In his hands was a week-long round trip first class ticket to Paris, a VIP ticket to Haly Circus while on its European tour, their itinerary, several cashier checks for different European countries, bus and train schedules, maps, and a list of addresses for hotels Wayne Enterprises owned on the other side of the Atlantic. It was a trip in a box. One ticket.

Bruce was going to let him go on an unsupervised trip to see his first family.

Dick's mind flashed back to that night when he last saw him. Bruce was so nervous… he was planning on giving him that envelope that night. They weren't just going to work out their issues, he was going to let him have some time to try being on his own. This gift was a sign of trust. A smile grew on his lips and he laughed weakly. "So I could see Pop Haly over in Europe."

"That's so cool!" His siblings came a little closer to check it out. They were only scraps of paper, but they meant more than their actual value, to all of them. Bruce letting one of them far out of his sight like that was unheard of. "Is it still any good?"

"Pretty sure Haly's done there for the season. They'll have moved back to North America by now." He looked around, expecting some commentary from the giver by now but hearing none. Alfred was working in the kitchen, preparing their next meal and ignoring their conversation in general, but… "Hey, where's Bruce?"

Jason and Tim looked around curiously. They hadn't noticed when he slipped out either. Cass shrugged in a nearby chair. "He left about an hour ago to talk to Alfred after his phone rang. No… hour and a half ago."

"Okay…" The acrobat looked over to his younger brothers, not really wanting to move away from them, but needing to thank their father properly. "Hey, can I get up for a bit?"

"You're not leaving right?" Tim pouted slightly, holding onto his arm a little tighter. Damian just looked at him curiously. The entire time he was gone, they told the toddler he was on a trip and would be back soon. For the most part, he was blissfully unaware of what had occurred, just knew Dick was going to be gone for a while. Tim seemed to be by far more shaken about his disappearance than anyone, except maybe Bruce.

"Not if I can help it." He gave the kid an encouraging smile and was rewarded with the use of his arm again. Damian slipped off his lap without any argument and the teen was able to walk around again. "Be back in a minute."

"You better," the genius pouted. "I still haven't showed you what Cass taught me."

"I'm looking forward to it." He grinned at his brother encouragingly, giving off more confidence than he had. He always did before, but this time he was hoping somehow that confidence would become real if he faked it enough. Quickly Dick joined Alfred in the kitchen, spotting the cookies cooling on the counter top for a moment. It was too tempting to swipe one right then, but he wanted to remain in Alfred's good graces. Who knew how he'd see him if he kept stealing? "Hey Alfie? Where's Bruce?"

"I believe he stepped out." The butler didn't look up from preparing the vegetables for their stew.

"Stepped out?" He set the envelope and its contents aside on the counter, concerned. Long ago he learned the man started talking vaguely whenever he was keeping something quiet. He did that a lot before he learned Bruce's big secret. "Where did he step out to?"

"There are many matters of business Master Bruce must handle before we return to Gotham." Alfred set aside a pile of carrots to start on the celery.

"Like what exactly?" The butler looked at him at last, raising an inquiring eyebrow. Suddenly flashes of everything he'd done the past month, everything from the thefts to property damages to fighting the Titans and evading the cops. His ears turned red and he looked away awkwardly. Of course there'd be things he'd have to take care of first. More than likely Alfred would have to charter a plane and take his siblings back to Gotham soon so they wouldn't miss too many school days. He and Bruce would probably have to go through a lot of hurdles to settle everything without making a scandal out if it. He'd be in San Francisco for a while. "Right…"

"I would not worry too much about the details Master Richard." The old mad started chopping another celery stick as he talked. "I assure you, Master Bruce will handle everything."

"I know…" A stray thought went into his head hearing that. Bruce did tend to get pretty hands on with everything that threatened his and his sibling's lives. And Alfred still hadn't told him exactly where his employer was. "Alfred, where did he go?"

"It's of no matter—"

"Where did he go?" When the man wouldn't answer his question directly, he knew something was up. He almost distracted him, but Dick was the king of distractions. Came with living half his life in the circus. The old man still wouldn't answer his question, taking the silent route. Dick's eyes widened dangerously. "You let him go to the police department…"

"As I've said before," the man gave him a long look, placing the knife away from him, "there are certain matters he must take care of himself."

"_He's_ going to be there." Dick watched the man for a moment. Alfred didn't even flinch. "You knew."

"In his household, we make our business to know certain things."

"And you let him go?!" The unwavering gaze of the butler only confirmed his thoughts. "Only because you couldn't… Alfred, do you realize what will happen if he succeeds?"

"Master Bruce has always been hard headed I'm afraid. You know this just as well as I."

"I can't believe this…" Quickly he turned on his heel and went back to his room, running his hands through his hair. He looked at a clock along the way and knew he didn't have much time. He wasn't not going to let it happen.

"Dick?" Jason had followed him after he passed by them without an explanation. He wasn't smiling, laughing, or even trying to fake it. Dick's mouth was a grim straight line and his eyes glaring in frustration. Now he was tying on his shoes, putting back on his watch, and grabbing a jacket. "What are you doing?"

"Stopping Bruce from making a horrible mistake." He whisked past his brother, pulling on the jacket as fast as he could. "Got a spare keycard? Might need it later."

"What?" The younger teen followed after him, a spike of fear entering his chest.

"Never mind. I can jimmy the lock later if I need to." He headed towards the door leaving the penthouse they recently acquired, focusing on something he couldn't see. "Be back soon, I hope."

"Just where do you think you're going young man?" Alfred came out of the kitchen, eyes growing in alarm. The others were leaving their comfortable seats to see what the commotion was about, their breaths halting as Dick headed towards the door.

"Where do you think?" He cast the man a slight glare. "To get Bruce back."

"I don't think so Ri—"

"I'm staying on the grid," Dick insisted, waving his returned watch/tracer on his wrist in front of him. "Besides, you've got four others to watch. Can't keep them safe and me here now can you?"

Knowing he won, the teen darted out the door, past the two shocked policemen standing by. Another teen ran past them as well before they could even respond, going after the first. "Wait up!"

"Richard! Jason!" Alfred's shouts after them fell on deaf ears, but the officers on duty were quickly realizing what happened, and that they were now in real trouble.

Dick quickly figured the stairwell and the elevators would be out of the question because of everything that had happened, so he went for the fire escape. That part of San Fran had much shorter and older buildings, so the penthouse was only on the tenth floor and an iron outer staircase not too far off. He slid down most the rails before leaping to a light pole and sliding down it. Jason followed suit, always five steps behind. "Dick! Hold up!"

"Should have stayed behind…" his big brother murmured as he darted between alleyways and towards a particular destination. Only one month running around this town and he knew it almost as well as Gotham. He knew exactly where he was and where he was headed. Jason didn't. The two of them ran for three blocks straight before the former street rat was out of breath.

"Dick! Ser… seriously… wai… wait for… for me… Dick…" Exhausted, the younger teen was ready to collapse. Dick was always faster than him, but not by this much. They ran through alleys, streets, parks, crowds and a market. It was a miracle he hadn't lost him yet. And yet… "Dick… don't…"

"Hang on." Suddenly Jason felt his wrist being pulled, helping him run further. He saw his brother holding onto him, grim and determined but not leaving him behind. He slowed down a bit, but not my much. Dick was just in a hurry, not trying to run away and he certainly wouldn't abandon him. Seeing him there, still there, warmed him.

But it didn't answer his internal questions. "Dick… why… why are we running?"

"Because we've gotta stop Bruce from making a horrible mistake." His eyes narrowed in memory.

Jason glared at him slightly. "Being… cryp… tic… isn't helping…"

"He's going after Slade." Dick gritted his teeth at the thought. This was not a good idea. On Bruce's part.

"Is… is that… really so… so bad?" The kid didn't see the problem in their dad going after the man who hurt them all so much. They finally reached a corner and a red light, forcing them to stop for a moment. The crowd waiting for the change helped.

The older boy let go of his wrist and turned on him. "Don't you get it?! Don't you see what will happen if he does?! Haven't you figured it out?! The reason why he didn't kill Joker?!"

Hearing that man's name made Jason's blood freeze. It certainly made his breathing stop for a moment. Joker did such terrible things… to him… to his biological mother… to all of Gotham… and he was still alive. He had often wondered why. He tried to glare at Dick who ignored his exhausted gaze and kept talking, vehemently trying to make a point. "Because he was… in jail?"

"Hell no! That'd never stop him." Dick ran a hand through his hair. "It's because I stopped him."

"What?" His blood ran cold. He what? Stopped their dad from killing that madman?

"Think about it for a minute!" The older teen explained his actions on that street corner best he could, getting a few curious looks from some pedestrians. "What will happen once Bruce kills? Everything's over, for all of us! Bruce will go to jail, Damian will be given back to Talia by default, Cass might be able to avoid her parents or the Shadows for a while but they'll find her one day, and if we're lucky, you, me and Tim would end up in the system. Alfred won't get custody for any of us, and that makes us all free game. Some business tycoon, Luthor most likely, will buy up Wayne Enterprises and take Tim for Drake Industries! And then there's everyone else Bruce is responsible for. What happens to them?!"

As he said all this, it slowly sunk into Jason's head. He was right. The law didn't work in favor of people who killed unless in self-defense. The League would be in shambles, and in turn so would the Titans. Their family would be destroyed, their entire world. But one more killer would be gone…

"Even if by some grand miracle he escaped the legal ramifications," Dick continued, "he wouldn't be the same! He'll have broken his own greatest rule in half. If Bruce goes after Slade, no matter the circumstances, he'll no longer be our dad! Do you want that to happen?! Do you want to lose everything just for revenge?! It's not worth it! None of it is worth it!"

He looked around when he saw traffic moving again and grabbed the younger teen's wrist, running again. He continued to explain, not giving Jason a chance to try and convince him otherwise. "You didn't see Bruce when you were hurt, when you were catatonic. Can you even remember what was going on around you back then?"

"Not really…" his brother admitted, thoughts buzzing through his head while he focused on breathing and moving forward.

"It was bad." The acrobat glared forward, turning a final corner. They were just half a block away from the station. "He wasn't focused. He only paid attention to you and Damian, and even then I was taking care of him during most of it. Lucius took care of Wayne Enterprises and I helped out our aunts and uncles. Bruce was slipping everywhere, couldn't control his thoughts or emotions, and kept making bad calls. It wasn't until after he realized revenge got him nowhere that things started going back to normal.

"Course that was after he beat the living snot out of the guy. I had to tackle Bruce before he would stop and listen." They stormed up the precinct's steps and through the door. "Got a good kick in myself. Barely stopped him in time. Watches and keys over security!"

Dick released Jason's wrist and whipped off his watch, tossing it over the metal detectors and catching it on the other side as he ran through. The officer on duty did a double take as both boys ran past him, barely escaping the alarms with their tossing trick and completely ignoring protocol. "Hey wait!"

"Sorry! Emergency!" The two of them made it to the reception desk in seconds, closely followed by a couple officers spotting them. Teenagers running into their building was anything but good. When Dick flipped over the desk and dropped down to their water bottle stash, they really didn't know what to make of him. Jason was panting hard, barely stopping at the desk. He barely realized one of those waters his brother was snatching was flying at him in time to catch it. "Keep moving and drink that down. You'll only hurt yourself if you stop now. Now where is he?"

Dick looked over the receptionist's shoulder, looking over the screen quickly. Nothing useful there. Other officers were shouting at them, getting out their handcuffs to arrest two invading teens obviously up to no good. The poor college girl at the computer just gaped at him. "Ahhmmm… who?"

"It really should be pretty obvious. The big guy meeting a really evil bad guy who loves orange a little too much." He looked over the other screens nearby her, especially at security cameras. A commotion was starting right outside a particular interrogation room. "Never mind. Found him. Jay, behind you. And don't hurt them. You don't need a juvie record."

"Too late." Quickly the trouble maker darted around the desk to a gate separating the cops from the reception hall. Someone was just getting out and Dick managed to throw a second bottle in between the gate and doorjamb, keeping it open. Soon both of them were through and the thing closed, electronically locking and stopping the cops from tailing them further. At least that set.

Dick gave his brother a slight glare as he passed the second bottle to him to drink. He was 'fine' and didn't need it. "Do I really want to know what you did?"

"Maybe later. It really wasn't that bad." That small break gave him a second wind, but he wasn't quite able to drink and run at the same time yet. "How I met Dad was worse."

The older boy couldn't help but roll his eyes at the comment. Well if Jason didn't get in worse trouble than stealing tires off the Lincoln, then he was alright. "We'll have to jump a few floors. When we get there, you handle the crowd. I'll stop Bruce. The guy's only making more trouble for us…"

"Still think we…" The two of them ran up the staircase, jumping steps and swinging around for two floors to gain time, "should just let him be for a bit…"

"I don't know how long he's been locked up with him. Here!" Dick nearly kicked the door open, running straight to the crowd next to an interrogation room. He recognized about half the legal personnel there, officers included, and the battering ram they were getting out. "Crap. Jaybird! You take the low road, I'll take the high road!"

"You crazy circus brat!" Jason hollered at him as he jumped from a desk to a sprinkler pipe and into the weak paneled ceiling above them.

"Go get them street rat! Show 'em what Gotham's like!"

Quickly the boy crawled among the wires and stray pipes between the fake ceiling and the next floor, making his way to the interrogation room. It wasn't a lot of space, but most air vents weren't large enough for a human being to pass through at any age. Soon he could hear both Slade's cool, calculating voice along with Bruce's barely contained anger filled one. His old master was taunting the man, and it was working. He moved faster.

It was strange the cops never thought of using the crawl space between floors for infiltration like this. They could have stopped Bruce from the beginning if they had. It wasn't long before the voices were clear as crystal. And judging by his protector's voice, it wouldn't be long before he started throwing punches. Quickly he shoved a panel aside and dropped into the room, ironically right on top of the table separating the hero and villain. Both men jerked back in surprise at his appearance, giving Dick a chance to turn a glare at Bruce and step away from Slade's handcuffed limbs attached to the table.

"Well well! Speak of the devil." The assassin grinned slightly. "Glad you could join us _apprentice_."

"What did I just say?" Bruce took a step forward, ready to pounce on the man, and would have if Dick wasn't blocking his way, staring him down.

"Don't even think about it Bruce," he started, straining to ignore the man behind him. "He's not worth it."

"Dick," the man started, glaring slightly at him, "stand aside."

"No." Inside the teen was shaking. Standing so close to his long time tormentor… Defying his savior… Knowing he was stopping someone from receiving vengeance… Being in the same room as two very dangerous men with horrible tempers… He had every reason in the world to be terrified. But he also knew this was right. And standing up for what was right, no matter what, was part of being a hero.

"Dick…"

"I can't step aside. Bruce, don't do this. Don't stoop to his level. You know better than I do what revenge does to people. You know exactly where this will lead." He waved over to the scumbag behind him. "You're only playing into his hands. Bruce you're better than him, better than this! You lay one hand on him and he'll take legal action. It'll be used against you and he'll win. He knows how to use the system as well as you do; I've heard him talk about it once. Don't let him win!"

"Win?" Slade taunted them in his seat, sending chills down the young man's spine. "My boy, I am under lock and key. How can I possibly win now?"

"You weren't there watching his probes eat away at them." Bruce shook in rage at the memory of it all, trying desperately to ignore the maniac's words. Watching his children in that much pain… Damian not breathing… Hearing Leslie's report…

"No I wasn't." A flash of pain flew across Dick's face. "I was the one who caused it. Knowing that hurts more than the things he did to me."

The man hesitated for a moment at the thought of what could have happened to him, what had happened. A growl grew in his voice, his eyes narrowed dangerously, not glaring at his son, but at the man on the other side of him. "He has to pay for what he's done."

"He will," the boy agreed, "but not this way. Let the law work Bruce. He doesn't have diplomatic immunity and there are plenty of charges and proof against him to put him away for good, if you behave. He won't win this way."

"He took you away from us!" That really tore at the man's insides, at all of them. The past four months were pure agony for them. "Do you have any idea what we went through with you gone?!"

"Do you know what I went through being stuck with him?! Being torn away from you?!" Bruce jerked back slightly, realizing part of his folly. Dick had suffered, probably more than anyone there had. But there he was, talking him down.

Bruce had to see reason. He had to clear his head and see this wasn't the answer. Pounding Joker and fighting Slade were entirely different things. Joker's just a violent crazy murderer in a strait jacket no one cared if he beat up near to death. Lots of people would have cheered him on or bought tickets if it weren't technically illegal (they did a really good job burying that story). Slade though… Dick doubted Bruce could beat him in a fair fight, in police custody or not. The only reason Dick won was because the Titans injured him earlier and the teenager was using the tighter space to his advantage, along with the flying debris. Plus Slade hadn't expected it; Dick held back when he fought previously, technique wise. Fighting him in broad daylight, in a police station's interrogation room would be suicide on so many levels.

"I've gone through hell Bruce! In so many ways! More than anything I'd like to see him get what's coming for him! He's hurt me, you, everyone! He's killed people all around the world! He's a monster that should be locked up in a deep pit and fed on by rats!" Dick shook at the memories, at all the things that happened to him, pained by it all. He really, really, hated this guy.

"But… More than him, more than anything, I don't want you taken away from us!" He looked pleadingly into his father's eyes, begging tears starting to form. "You try to take him down like this and that's exactly what will happen. Bruce, the past few months have been a nightmare, a cruel chess game he's played with our lives. This is his last ditch effort to win, you and your temper! Don't let him win. Walk away, and let the justice system do its job."

Bruce just looked at him for a long minute, veins pulsing on his face and neck. It really was a much harder choice for him than he let on. His thirst for vengeance was hardly ever quenched, only pushed aside for the greater good. And that 'greater good' was telling him to do it again.

The man behind him scoffed. "Really, how long do you thing those buffoons can hold me? It won't take more than a night to leave this place and—"

"Shut up right now or your brain will plaster these walls." Dick glared death upon the man over his shoulder, his foot itching to slam into his head at a moment's notice. "I've been ready to go to prison ever since you abducted me, and it shouldn't be a surprise I want you dead. Planned on killing you if I couldn't get my freedom another way. One way or another, I'm not letting you win."

Their eyes met for a minute, and the assassin knew he wasn't lying. If necessary, this circus boy would kill, if it meant saving someone else from the evil one. He had awoken someone potentially very dangerous. The only thing stopping him now was the large hand taking his own. Bruce would have grabbed his shoulder if he wasn't standing on the table still.

"And I won't let you become what he is." Dick looked back over to the man he trusted explicitly, his eyes relaxing a bit. The rage he had was fully reigned in once again. The Bat wasn't going to be making an appearance that day, and he certainly wasn't going to kill. "Now get down from there. Rule 9."

That last bit made the teen smirk a bit before hopping off. "Right…" Once his feet were on the ground, he 'accidentally' shoved the table backwards, right into Slade's bruised ribs. He gave a mock sorry look, shrugging a bit. "Sorry, not perfect."

"Some days I wonder…" Bruce gave him a playful sadistic look. Hearing Slade gasping for breath was music to their ears. "Have you considered a career in political negotiations? I think you'd do that much better than being a cop."

The acrobat jerked his eyes onto him with a snap. "Where'd you hear about that?!"

"Your counselor at school gave me the paper about a month after you disappeared. She felt it'd help prove you didn't run away to become a criminal. We're using it for your case as a character reference." The man looked over to the cringing criminal and smirked. "Lofty goals towards law and order, the exact opposite of what he expected isn't it?"

"You betcha." He looked over the door lock and glared at him for a moment. "Why did you jimmy the lock like this? It's going to be a royal pain when they realize how easy it is to fix from their side."

"It's just as effective and simple to take care of from either side," the CEO admitted. He cast Slade one last glare before fixing the lock and opening the door. "See you in court, Wilson."

"I look forward to it Wayne. Renegade." Slade's voice remained cool and full of guile, still sending chills down his victim's back. Fear remained.

Balling his fists, Dick looked back to him, glaring purest hate. "It's Richard or Dick. Or better yet, Robin. You were beaten by a little bird, Sadie."

As soon as the door opened, they were greeted by angry shouts and glares from the officers, and with a slight shriek from Jason getting yanked away from the door. "Paws off ya pig!"

"Wayne! What were you thinking going in there like that?!" Sargent Kendal exploded at his face. And was completely ignored. Bruce was instantly focused on his other son twisting his shirt out of a cadet's grip.

"Jason… What are you doing here?"

"He… kinda followed me." Their dad cast him a worried glare while ignoring the Sargent's shouting and shoving through the crowd to the younger boy while keeping a hand on his older one. Dick just gave him a sheepish grin, following obediently. "Told him he should have stayed with Alfred."

Kendal was really going at them, despite the man trying to keep his sons safe and in line. "Neither of you should have been in there! How did you—"

"The lock malfunctioned," Bruce stated flatly, moving on. "Dick found the problem and fixed it on the inside. Probably saved my life."

"He sure did." They all stopped and looked over to a man coming out of the observation room. He had one of those annoying, knowing smiles on his face, telling them they were seen earlier. "Though I am pretty curious how a seventeen year old managed to get into a room half a dozen policemen couldn't, without any property damage."

"He's talented that way," Jason jibed, finally getting away from the cop holding onto him.

"Who's this?" Dick looked over the guy for a minute, stepping closer to his protector.

"Jack Barns, Jump District Attorney." He offered his hand to him but he didn't take it. Instead he grabbed onto Bruce's arm, shaking slightly.

"Oh." Suddenly the acrobat collapsed, about ten feet away from the interrogation room's door. If he wasn't holding onto his father, he'd have fallen head first to the ground. Or he just felt he would.

"Dick!" Bruce and Jason were at his side in an instant, looking him over and trying to find a reason for this collapse.

"I'm fine… I'm fine…" Shaking and out of breath, he tried to focus on a spot on the floor. He just had to regain his balance. "Just… Just haven't had to… Face down a monster like that for a while."

"Are you alright?" Worry and panic filled his father's voice, holding onto his son for dear life.

"Just… need… to sit down." He gave the man a weak smile. "Ran all the way here."

"What?" It wasn't a happy 'what' either. Bruce looked at Jason nearby, alarm and a touch of anger in his voice. The thirteen year old cringed back slightly, nodding a bit. "You ran…"

"Well Alfred wasn't about to take us," Jason sputtered off quickly. They led the shaky acrobat to a nearby chair to let him rest. "Not with those guards outside the door and the others needing him."

"My idea," Dick said quickly, trying to get Jason of the hook. Just because he was having a mild panic attack coupled with suppressing the adrenalin side-effects for so long, didn't mean he wasn't paying attention. "I ran, he followed. You were here. Your fault."

"My fault…" He rolled his eyes, shaking his head as the DA came back into view. Barns looked over him for a moment before speaking.

"Mr. Grayson? I was wondering if you were up for an interview today." The man smiled kindly at them, trying to give them their space. He was another of those 'mean well but not that good with people' people. "Just a few short questions really. I'm certain you're anxious to return home, what with everything that's happened and how you stood up to that man. But if you can go through everything with me soon, then I'll do everything in my power to send you and your family home, okay?"

Dick tried his hardest to look at the lawyer, to focus, but his brain wasn't functioning all that well at the moment. His brain was buzzing with random thoughts about what he just did. Stood between Bruce and Slade, two of the most dangerous men in the world. Stopped a monster from being killed. Prevented a good man from becoming a murderer. Faced fears and doubts without wavering. He had a lot more courage than he believed. Anyone who did all that would have a hard time accepting it. Even harder considering his history with both of them.

And it was to keep one going that he was there. "If you need me to, I'll try. But only if Bruce and Jason are with me. No family, no testimony."

The DA smiled, nodding. "I think I can make that sacrifice."

* * *

A/N: XD if you were hoping for a showdown between Bruce and Slade, sorry to disappoint! They don't get to fight in this world for quite some time. He just can't beat anyone near to death in police custody. Batman could get away with it but not Bruce.

SO I've gone full circle with a lot of things. That envelope at the beginning, calling Slade 'Sadie', the whole thing about Dick's many names, all of this has been hit. Also put in that paper Dick wrote earlier in the series. There will be other things handled in the epilogue tomorrow but this covers a bit,

now, question! _for the extended version_, what questions need answering and what scenes do you want? What details need to be brought out? I forget them all sometimes... Please tell me. You now know most of this tale. Some scenes are already handled, others are not.

Well, tomorrow comes! ^^V


	70. Sacrifice-Epilogue

This is it! There's about Four months between this and the previous chapter, adn I'll cover it later. Enojy!

Dick-17 Jason-14 Cass-12 Tim-10 Damian-3

* * *

**Sacrifice**

_Epilogue_

Alfred really didn't want to interrupt. Could be hazardous to his health, not to mention his suit. The way Jason and Dick were going back and forth throwing water balloons at each other was dangerous enough without all the flips and tricks they were pulling on the side. Cass was having fun splashing buckets onto the older boys and leaving them on people's heads at random. Tim snuck around, dodging more than throwing, and using the hose to attack his family at random. Damian ran in between everyone, slapping them with sponges. They were careful not to step on him or knock him down, but were brutal to each other.

And they loved every minute of it.

One thing all the Wayne children had in common besides their hair color was their competitive fighting spirit. Didn't help that their father encouraged them to learn to actually fight, teaching them numerous skills to save themselves and others from danger. And they all loved using these techniques against each other. Even without supersoakers or squirt guns, it was a warzone on the northwest lawn where the children played. The garners were going to love how they tore up the terrain.

Though this event made the children happy, and even helped remove Dick's fear of water, there was a good reason he had to interrupt. Guest had arrived. Unusual guests if they were any other family, but considering who they considered their aunts and uncles, these would be cousins. Estranged ones at the moment, but knowing these children, not for long. Alfred had them waiting in the sitting room.

"Master Richard!" At the butler's voice, all but the toddler stopped what they were doing to look at him. Dick was getting up after slipping in the grass, his shirt covered in mud and twigs. Jason had just picked up Tim to drag him to a mud hole they made earlier while Cass was restocking on balloons. It was almost humorous seeing them freeze like that with Damian running between them all. "You have visitors waiting in the parlor. Please remember to use the towels. And Master Timothy, please remember to remove your traps before entry. Mr. Lavern is not fond of water explosions while trimming the daffodils."

The younger boy grinned sheepishly as his brother put him back down, groaning slightly. Their game was over. Dick grinned at the old man. "Sure thing Alfie. I'll take care of them in five. Come on Dami! Let's get you cleaned up."

"NO!" The smallest of them protested loudly, stomping his foot. "I wanna play more!"

"We can play this again tomorrow," he stated evenly, picking up the kid and taking a hose to rinse him off. "Until then, we can bug these new people."

"After a quick cleaning," the butler insisted before turning back to the door. "Do not track mud across my nice clean floor." He pointed once to the towels waiting for them then disappeared inside. He was a true master at the disappearing act.

"But I wanna play more!" Damian pouted, struggling against his brother for a moment before Dick pinned him between his legs.

"Later. Come on, let's get you washed up." Though the kid struggled against being rinsed off for a minute, Dick made a game out of it, letting him spray him with the hose a few times as well. The teen flinched for a moment against the water hitting him, but nothing more. It took him some time to not have a panic attack every time water hit him, but having a water fight with his siblings every couple days over the summer helped. This activity was therapy along with fun, and it didn't look strange should guests arrive. There were a few times some joined in, after they told them the whole 'no guns of any sorts' rule in the house. Rule 2 could be a royal pain in social circles.

As soon as Damian was mud and grass free, he wrapped a towel around him and started rinsing off his own body. Even took off his shirt to keep the mud there out of the house. Hopefully the visitors weren't the shy type, or a hot chick. He really didn't want Barbara to see his new scars either, but he doubted it was her. Alfred identified individuals if they knew them well. Ideas of who had come over and hadn't tried to join them started mounting in his head.

"GREEN KITTY!"

Dick jerked out of his revere as the toddler ran inside after a green blur. The others stopped their cleanup in surprise, nearly gaping at him darting inside. The kid was still wet in his swimsuit. "Ah crap! Dami!"

Instantly the acrobat was running after him, taking a couple spare towels along the way. The other three exchanged knowing looks and smirked while they disappeared inside. As was typical whenever they were left to their own devices, Dick was the one watching out for the youngest, even from Alfred's shrewd eye. He was running after him, towel in hand and scooping him up into a hug as soon as he caught up.

"Come here you!" Damian shrieked in happiness while his brother smothered him in that towel affectionately. He laughed too as he brought him around to look the kid straight in the eye. "No wet feet on Alfred's nice clean floor. Even for…Wait, did you say _green_ kitty?"

"Green kitty, see?" The tyke managed to get an arm out of his hold and pointed to where the cat went. The two of them had chased each other into the parlor, right where his guests were supposed to be. And were. Before them, staring at them in surprise, were the Teen Titans. All in civies, but that didn't matter with most of them. Three-quarters of the team couldn't have secret IDs if they tried. The remaining weren't really that careful with them either. One happened to be Beast Boy.

"Green kitty indeed…" Dick bit back his embarrassment when he spotted them. He was just in his swim trunks, still wet from rinsing off all the mud and grass. He was planning on grabbing a fresh shirt before seeing anyone, hiding his many scars and how well toned his muscles had become. If they ignored the markings, he was eye-candy of the highest grade, and he did not want the attention right then. Especially since Alfred was also there, with his disapproving frown at them being wet and inside. "Ah shoot…"

"Indeed Master Richard."

"Ahhummm…" He gave a sheepish grin. "Right… I'll… Um… Be right back. Sorry Alfred!"

Instantly the teen took off running, out of the room with his younger brother in hand and his face turning redder by the second. He vaguely heard an apology from Alfred to the team for both his and Damian's actions as he dashed up the stairs, skipping steps constantly. The kid gave another squeal of excitement but also protested as they reached the hallway where their rooms were. "I wanna play with kitty!"

"You can play with kitty when you're dry. Jason! Thank G-d!" Their brother had just made it up the other stairs, ditching the rest of the cleanup in favor of a nap. Dick wasn't going to let that happen quite yet; he nearly shoved Damian into his hands. "I've got to handle the Titans."

"Titans?" The confused look on Jason's face was almost priceless. "They're here?"

"Finish drying up Dami okay?" Dick gave him a quick grin then darted away to his room. He had less than a minute to grab a shirt and spare towel for himself before running back down stairs. Wet shorts sucked but he was stuck with them for a bit.

"Wai—Don't I get any say in this?!" The younger teen looked back and forth between where Dick went and the toddler shoved into his hands.

"NOPE!" He practically barreled into his room and grabbed the first shirt he could find and pulled it over his head as he ran into his bathroom for a minute. Running out while tugging the Tee over his torso while having a comb in his mouth and a towel barely hanging on over a shoulder, he nearly collided with Cass coming up to change out of her wet wear. "WHOA! Sorry Cass!"

"You're not getting away with this Dickhead!" Jason shouted after him, still standing in the hallway with a wet kid in his arms.

"Rule 6!" The racing acrobat flashed a grin at him before turning the corner and disappearing. "And you bet I am!"

Dick imagined his brother giving him the finger but didn't doddle. Quickly running the comb through his hair then tossing it to one of the many tables decorating the manor, he rushed to the slanted part of the banister to slide down it on the towel. He wasn't about to risk the adults' disapproval at his swinging from the chandelier again, not for this. The Titans were here and he wanted to be on his best behavior for them. Well, most of them.

Soon he was back on the ground floor, wrapping the towel around his waist before entering the parlor to officially greet his guests. "Hey there! Welcome to Wayne Manor. Sorry for taking so long and seeing that before. Damian has a thing for cats and we were just outside playing water tag. Um… Do you need any… Oh." He spotted the glasses of lemonade around the room and that they were already seated. Awkwardness settled further into his stomach. Everything he was taught to do as a good host was taken care of. "I see Alfred's already taken care of that… Ah… Heh… Nice to see you all again. Um… Alfred said you wanted to talk to me. Am I in trouble?"

"Depends." Roy stepped forward, trying to act serious. "Have you been on your best behavior Mr. Grayson?"

"Last I checked." Dick wiggled an ankle carrying an official tracking device on it. "The Martials would know if I deliberately got on the wrong side of the fence again if I did."

They noted the anklet, some of them cringing. Even though he had managed to avoid any permanent scarring on his record because of his circumstances, he hadn't escaped all punishment for his time as Renegade. Until he turned eighteen next spring, he was doomed to wear that piece of jewelry and under house arrest. Course his range would include school once it started up again, making things a little nicer for him. And the manor was a pretty fun place to be trapped in. And the caves and grounds surrounding it. He couldn't be bored for more than ten minutes in this place. If he continued to behave and continued to provide all the intel the prosecutors wanted, he could get the thing taken off early. The guy was on permanent retainer for any trial against Slade, and he would gladly testify.

"That only means you haven't been caught Mr. Grayson." The archer tried to look menacing and scary, starting a series of eye-rolls and groans from his friends. Some like Starfire and Donna were worried about how their host would take it.

Dick just rolled his eyes before walking around the couch to sit on it. "Cut it out Roy. I've seen scarier down at Amusement Mile."

"Wait…" Kori stepped closer, not seeing Roy's amusement or the other's surprise. "How is it you—"

"I met Roy Harper a couple years back," he explained, propping his elbows on his knees. "And considering who I live with and what happens in my day to day life, it really wasn't hard."

"Huh?" He lost most of them within the first five seconds. The redhead boys smothered snickers while Dick just rolled his eyes, shaking his head. Though he didn't want to hurt the Titans, he did wish those two had told them the truth like they said they would.

"He called Jason 'Jaybird' when you guys rescued me. Only family or close friends call him that and get away with that. Mostly just me." He ran a hand through his damp hair, thinking this over. "Dead giveaway. And the rest of you don't exactly hide your identities."

The teens gave each other awkward smiles and shrugs. The guy had a point. "So," he started again, his nerves leaving him, "to what do I owe this honor? I didn't think I had any more hearings or trials for a while and that the feds would be picking me up for those." He looked over each of them for a moment, watching their body language around the room. Very few of them knew what to say or do. Looked like Donna was the only one completely sure of herself. Probably the reason why she was their leader. "This would be a really long trip for a social call after all."

"Actually," Donna started, walking around the coffee table between them, "we've been talking and decided to ask you to join us."

"What?" Confusion ruled the teen's face. What was she really asking?

"What Wonder Girl is asking is," Raven started, smiling ever so slightly, "how would you like to become a Teen Titan?"

His hands fell in his lap. He gaped at them in shock, jaw agape. She was really asking him to join? Seriously?! "What?"

"As an Honorary Titan," Donna specified. She immediately tried to swing it her way, clarify what she was saying. She must have had lessons from her sister because she was doing a fairly good job. Things were clicking in his head as she spoke. "You wouldn't have to join us in the field or in Jump… ah… San Francisco, but you'd have access to the tower, our files, a communicator, and could call for help at any time. It's actually a great honor and we already have a few others all over the world."

"This is because Slade escaped custody isn't it."

The team exchanged worried glances all around him, becoming antsy. "Where did you…" "How did you…" "That's not confirmed." "We just found…"

"When did you find out?" Wally stepped up next to him, curious. "We barely learned about it this morning."

Dick smirked knowingly at him, a little worn. "About an hour after it was reported. Bruce is wired into Interpol. Last I heard they were still looking into how he broke out. If you're worried about him coming after me for revenge or something, don't. So long as I'm in Gotham, he can't touch me. The security here's better than Fort Knox, and Gotham's my home town. If you thought I was trouble in San Fran, it's nothing compared to what I can do here.

"And I'm not going to join him either." He sighed as he reassured them. "I don't have Stockholm Syndrome. After everything he put me through and what he did to my family and everyone else…" He closed his eyes a moment then reopened them, glaring hatred so pure he would burn the table to dust if he had powers. "If I ever see him again, he's a dead man. And I'm pretty sure he knows that. I wouldn't have worked for him if I had a choice back then."

They stood in silence for a moment, a heavy atmosphere nearly suffocating them. What happened well over four months ago weighed heavily in their minds, none more so than Dick's. He meant every word he said and they knew it. Raven sat down because of the wildly strong emotion coming from him, and non-empaths were feeling like doing the same. Thankfully Donna broke the mood. "Well Dick, truth be told, we've been discussing this long before his escape. Even before we met you."

"What?" He jerked his eyes up to look at her, confused.

She grinned at him. "There's this video on youtube of—"

"Oh not that again!" Dick fell backwards into the cushions, running a hand through his hair with a groan. "That stupid video is what got me noticed by Slade in the first place! And it was Boy Wonder, not Wonder Boy. Ryder really screwed it up."

"Does it really matter?" Roy asked, taking off his sunglasses and plopping down in a nearby seat.

"To me." He sighed heavily. "It was what they called me at Haly's Circus. Their little boy wonder. And that costume was based off of what I wore back then, when I was eight. Really a bad idea."

"Well what you did that night was brilliant," Donna interrupted. On the spot, Dick looked away embarrassed.

"Bruce would say differently," he murmured, now agreeing since there were so many consequences for his actions that night. What he did was dumb, on so many levels.

"You saved lives back then," she tried to tell him. "And you did it so well… You faced those guys without flinching and everyone came out fine. Everything was recovered. And I saw that look on your face back then. You enjoyed every minute of it."

Dick closed his mouth, looking at the ceiling in thought. Yeah, he had enjoyed it, all of it. It was the consequences of his actions that he hated. The Amazon continued. "The only reason we didn't try to recruit you back then was because Speedy said you'd never agree because of your Dad."

"Might have," he offered, thinking out loud. "Probably would have joined up just to tick him off back then. Lots of stupid teenage angst."

"And when you appeared as Renegade-" The guy flinched at the name slightly, really hating it, "-we talked about trying to turn you. We wanted you to change sides back then, especially since you saved Aqualad from that fire and Beast Boy from the train."

"The train was my fault," he muttered sourly, getting an eye roll from Gar. He was going to keep blaming himself for everything wasn't he?

"We knew you weren't really evil." She gave him a kind smile, coaxing him. "We just didn't know why you were working for the bad guy or stealing. When Kid Flash explained things to us, what you were really doing, I knew you were just like us. A teenaged hero trying to break free from someone's shadow."

'_Don't I know it._' Dick looked towards the stairs not too far off and the direction of the study just beyond them. The shadow he was breaking free from was also his safety net. He still had to figure out how to grow out of one and keep the other.

"Only difference is," she continued explaining, "your mentor was someone who believed the opposite of what you did while all of ours believe the same things as us. We saw that in you and thought it'd be a good idea to have you on our side. That we could even be friends. Won't you consider becoming a Titan?"

He blinked at her for a moment, then looked at the others. Some didn't seem to care while others seemed annoyed. Cyborg certainly wasn't convinced, and Aqualad and Beast Boy seemed to be on the fence. Roy and Wally's forced back smiles were kinda annoying (those two were loving his internal squirming) but Raven's ever so slight encouraging smile (one only recognizable because of his years with Bruce) made up for it. Starfire and Donna's confident ones made him feel a little guilty. They were ready to trust him so easily. And he…

"Are you sure that's such a good idea?" He fidgeted in his seat, not looking at her eyes. "I mean, I beat each one of you pretty quickly back then."

"You caught us off guard!" Wally jumped at his defense. At one point he wouldn't have defended him but after four months of being the unofficial League/Titan liaison, he got the guy's full story and knew he wasn't evil. Plus he actually got to know him pretty well. "And with Slade's bag of tricks you could—"

"That's the thing; it wasn't his bag of tricks I used." Dick cringed back at their surprised looks, guilt setting in. "They were mine. All of them. We make a game of it here. Every so often when we're bored at dinner or in the car, we try to come up with ways to take down different members of the Justice League. Hypothetically," He added quickly, an apologetic look in his eye. "Like I said, it's a game here. We try to come up with crazy creative plans, but we also look at what their enemies did and try to repeat their successes.

"Like that putty glue thing I used on you and Beast Boy." He pointed between the speedster and changeling. "That was based off of the Trickster's gloppy hero trap a few years back. I know about Atlantian physiology so I knew how to knock you out without permanent damage or hurting myself too badly." He gave Garth an apologetic look, getting antsy as he looked over to Vic. "I learned a lot about computers and robots from my little brother and from Wayne Tech visits when I was bored, so taking you down like that was pretty simple. I knew you could easily be repaired later. Bruce told me about magicians and their need for talking to do their spells," he switched over to Raven. "So all I could figure was preventing you from talking or making something else more important. And Donna," he gave her his most apologetic look, "we all had to learn to get out of ropes and stuff. Tim actually figured out how to get undo your knot a long time ago. The only person I hadn't figured out how to beat was Starfire."

"What am I? Chopped liver?" While the others gaped at him in surprise, Roy folded his arms and pouted.

Dick gave him a slight apologetic glare. "Roy, you've had your apologies all summer. And I told you, your dependency on a bow will get you killed. You need to widen your arsenal, not to mention improve your armor and fighting technique."

"I know," the cheeky archer started, grinning slightly, "and I've been working on that thanks to you. I just like teasing you about it. We've all gotten better since then because you royally tanned our hides. Which is why we need you."

The acrobat blinked at him in confusion. "You lost me."

"It's actually pretty simple." The redhead leaned back in his seat, grinning at him. "You saw holes in our defenses, our flaws, and exposed them. But you didn't cause any permanent damage. Well not to us. That sign got mutilated."

"I always thought it was tacky," he murmured, not wanting to interrupt.

"It is. The ones Ollie commissions are just as bad. I mean, who wants to—"

Donna gave a slight cough, gaining their attention again. Roy grinned apologetically at her for falling into their usual habit of commenting and complaining about the things their guardians while also defending them. The archers had a love-hate relationship lately while Dick and Bruce were making every effort to work through their issues. Helped that the man was right at his side defending and supporting him through his whole ordeal and they wanted things to work out. But they were sidetracking, badly.

"Thing is Dick," she continued, "we learned a lot from those fights. Not even our mentors or all our training together could see what you did. It was like you were training us. In each of those fights you were trying to get away or forcing us to retreat, not kill us. And the way you incapacitated Raven at each of those fights—"

"I still don't know how that happened," he interrupted, confused for a moment. They got it mostly right.

"You're very emotional," Raven explained. "I'm an empath. I reflexively absorb the feelings of others, and yours blew me over. I can only take so much negative emotion before 'shutting down'. And while in Slade's power—"

"I had so much of it, I blew you out of the water without trying." Dick rubbed his forehead as those pieces fell into place. He was so angry, scared, and guilt ridden back then he made himself physically sick after each heist. That guy royally screwed him up. "Sorry about that. If I knew, I would have tried to bridle them better. Your file didn't say anything about that."

"File?" The Titans exchanged looks while he raised an eyebrow at them. He looked over to Wally who clearly was thinking the same thing as Roy. Neither of them had considered a file on the Titans. Garth though stepped forward for clarification. "Slade has files on us?"

"Probably," Dick admitted, looking back to the redheads after a moment, "but I wouldn't know. He usually kept me away from computers so I wouldn't try to get in touch with anyone. Had to have a connection to keep the probes hanging over my head all the time and to get up-to-date intel. I'm talking about B's files. He has one on everyone in the crime fighting community, even me and my very short career. It's quite interesting reading his analysis once in a while, especially the one on himself which goes to so many levels of weird. Has everything on criminals too, all the ones the League's fought at least. He's thinking about adding your rogue gallery to the archives in case they cross with his cases again."

"B?"

"You know he gave you the 'go ahead' at that party right?" The slight glare Wally and Roy received made them both sheepish. A few weeks after he returned to Gotham the League founders and those two were invited to a 'welcome back' party for Dick. That was when the two of them learned most of their identities and some secrets were spilled between mentors and protégés, particularly about the mysterious B. Donna and Garth had other things to do that night and Bruce was still iffy about the rest of them, but Roy finally got the questions he had for years answered. Everyone else still had their questions.

Wally gave a sheepish shrug matching Roy's awkward grin. "We thought it'd be better if you or he shared instead of us. He really has a file on me?"

"He was the first person your uncle called when you got your powers." Dick shook his head, smirking slightly to himself before looking to the others. "B's the main financier and information hub of the Justice League," he explained to the newer heroes who had no League connections. "He also takes care of clearing up other people's financial contributions (like Aquaman's doubloons and Wonder Woman's artifacts), does the hacking and tactical planning for their missions, covers for their secret identities, even securing day jobs, and is their lead detective all while inside the safety of his cave. He was once known as Batman, but these days he's just Bruce."

The teens all looked at each other, some following everything while others like Kori were lost in the explanation. The red haired boys though tried to give them reassuring smiles, confirming what the guy said. Cyborg tried to get some clarification. "Bruce? As in…"

"Bruce Wayne. Yeah." The shock on the majority of their faces was almost priceless. "My dad. Which explains why the League was so hot on my trail when I was kidnapped. I was there when the League was formed. It happened here and in the dining room, that way." He pointed down the hall not too far away. "I was twelve. We had to order in express pizzas to make up for Flash's appetite. And we still didn't get a slice. I learned the Batman secret when I was eight, and shortly after he retired to raise me. Then the family kept growing. He helped form the League in order to protect all of us and Gotham."

As it sunk in, more and more about his actions made sense. No wonder he could take them down. If he was raised by Batman, a legend in their circles, and grew up knowing the League, he would know the ins and outs of fighting, tactics, and how to handle them. Even how to handle Slade. Wait… Donna took a hesitant step forward. "Does Slade know—"

"No." Dick shook his head, some relief in him. "He doesn't really know who he took. All he knows is what he saw on Halloween. Well, he knows now that Bruce taught me how to fight personally but that's about all. I don't think he even suspects I have a personal connection to the League."

"That you're more like us," she started, a light donning in her eyes, "than he ever knew."

That brought a smirk to his face. "Yeah, I really am. Had Bruce stayed in the game," he looked over to Roy, "I probably would have been the first."

As the words soaked in, they realized it was true. The guy was seventeen. If he knew who Batman was at eight and fought at his side then, he would have had nine years of experience by then. Imagining this guy with that much time in the field, when he only had a few months of endurance training with Slade and only lessons from his father and beat them so easily, they knew he could have been their leader and shining example. It was almost terrifying how much potential this guy had.

"That's even more of a reason you should be one of us." They all looked at Donna again, her perseverance encouraging. She would not be waved. All that he had told them only made the picture more complete. He was born for this world, raised in it while kept from participating. It was about time he took a more active role. "Dick, I'm not saying you have to come into the field with us. Or live in the tower with us. Just that you don't have to be alone.

"The reason we formed the Titans was to break away from our mentors and make a place for ourselves. To grow up together without the judgment of others. To be friends and partners. I want you to become a Titan for yourself more than for us. If you need anyone your age to talk to, someone who'll understand where you're coming from, we'll be here for you. We can back you up whenever you need help, and I'm sure now more than ever that you'll be able to help us more than anyone."

"YEAH!" Wally clapped his hands at the idea. "You could be like the B of the Teen Titans! My uncle said he helps out a lot more than anyone gives him credit for."

"Yeah, he does." Dick looked over Donna and the rest again, seeing them starting to come together in this idea now. He kinda liked it, but he still had his doubts. Being friends with the Titans, being counted among them, it was like a dream come true. But…

"So how about it?" Their leader took out a communicator, offering it to him. "Want to become a Teen Titan?"

He shrunk into himself slightly, doubts about himself plaguing him. Maybe he really wasn't right for the job. Maybe they'd grow to hate him because of all the things he'd gone through with Slade. There were so many thoughts and problems running through his head. "I don't know…"

"You should do it."

At the man's voice, everyone jerked their heads around to the parlor's entrance. Bruce was standing there, a slight smile gracing his lips. He was looking at his son with understanding. "I've kept you in the shadows too long Dick. It's about time you had some fun with them. If you want to join the Titans, go ahead. It's not like you'll be running around in a cape and pixie boots because of this."

"You serious?" As his long time father figure nodded his head, all of Dick's doubts flew out the window. A broad grin lit up his face and he instantly flipped over the couch's back and over to him, giving him a quick hug. "Thank you!"

His dad chuckled fondly at his sudden childish actions, returning the embrace before his first born took off back to the Titans. With Batman covering his back, he wasn't scared of anything. He snatched up the communication, his smile plastered across his face. "You bet I'll be a Titan! Honorary or no, I'll do everything I can to make sure you don't regret this."

"I certainly hope so circus boy." Roy couldn't help but laugh at the scene, giving his friend a slight punch. It was the first time he could talk to someone completely honestly since knowing the 'Bat Secret' and Dick. With the Titans now being in common with them, there was nothing they couldn't talk about. The two normal guys in the group.

"Hey!" Wally joined them as they started converging on their newest member. "Just thought of something. You're gonna need a codename. I mean, the 'Bat Secret' doesn't leave us, right?" He looked once over to the man still standing in the doorway, just watching him. One nod and it was confirmed. "So that means no one but us can even know you're one of us. You're gonna need an alias."

"I got one." Dick grinned, looking once at Bruce teasingly. "Nightwing."

"Oh boy." The man shook his head, trying to suppress a smile. Figures.

Starfire cocked her head, confused. "Nightwing? Please explain. What is a 'Night-wing'?"

He just grinned at her and the others, equally confused. "Superman used to tell us stories from Krypton whenever he babysat and we didn't con him into movie nights. My favorite ones were about Nightwing, a hero there who was a lot like Batman."

"Superman babysits?!" was about all Beast Boy and Cyborg got, making the acrobat laugh.

"Yeah he does. Makes a wicked apple pie too." As he laughed at fond memories, some of his new friends realized they just got someone who could blackmail or embarrass the entire League on their side. Over all, this guy was a gold mine. He was meant to be one of them.

Bruce slipped out of the room a minute later, letting the team get acquainted with his eldest. Thinking back to all the years he spent with the boy, all the things he had gone through, it was a bit hard to let him go like this. Well, having friends he could be 100% honest with was worth it. The dark knight had allies, friends, his age he could be honest with (if he wanted). It was about time Dick did too. The Titans specifically said they wouldn't pull him into the crossfire or put him in the field. Honorary didn't mean active duty. His boy was still safe.

Still, Dick had lost several months of his life because of a madman. He gave himself up as a sacrifice for the sake of his family. But there was another definition of that word, one people forgot in loom of the horror of loss. Sacrifices were given up to a higher purpose, in hopes of receiving more blessings than what they had initially. Dick sacrificed his freedom, his time and everything he stood for in the stead of his family. After four months of hell, and several more for recovery and legal affairs, he had gained back everything, and one of his greatest dreams.

He was now a Titan. He had good friends and allies. He had his family, his future, and his freedom. Robin was flying free.

ARC END

* * *

A/N: Well, that's it! Dick is now a Titan! And he's Nightwing! Yes he's currently under house arrest for a long while but that was part of the plea deal. He's not complaining though 'cause house arrest this time around means safety and family. He'll get his last semester of school done too. Slade may be out again but he won't be coming back for a long time. Not physically at least. Dick's still traumatized after all, though thanks to Alfred and the kids, he's getting better with the water thing. He's doing a lot of fake it til he makes it stuff too, but he's really happier with his siblings around. all the time during summer.

And also the titans know the truth, or just those titans. Like the League, not everyone will know who he is, just the founders/main team. In the future there will be other arcs based off of TT favorite eps, but I don't think any others are going to follow it this closely. Who knows. This is a different world after all.

Anywho, DNB is now on hiatus until I can get some much neglected stories going again or completed. More than likely I'll have a few more arcs ready to go then too. This really is a hard to let go of series. Well, I'll also have a short series running starting tomorrow in TT, so I'm not done yet! See ya laters!


	71. School Invasion

Yes I'm still on hiatus officially, but after reading about a certain event's heroes, I felt this had to be done. Another one shot, pre-dami

Dick-13 Timmy-6

* * *

**School Invasion**

Gotham Academy is possibly one of the safest schools in the nation, believed to be the safest in all of Gotham. So when Dick heard the school's lock-down alarm, he only thought it was another drill. After all, he couldn't hear any shooting. Like the rest of his classmates, he just found a comfortable corner of the room and took out his cellphone to play a few apps until the drill was over. He didn't think anything of it.

At least until he received a call from Timmy. Confused and curious he answered it. "Timmy?"

"Dick!" came a scared harsh whisper. "I'm scared!"

"Timmy calm down," he started, getting to the edge of his seat. Those around him looked up from their games, curious. "What's wrong?"

"Someone's making loud noises and I can't get Daddy!"

"Loud noises…"

"Loud bad noises! Worse than on TV!"

The young teen straightened, his eyes growing wide as he tried to keep his voice level. His teacher was giving him a reproving glare but he didn't care. There were a few sounds he freaked out over, and since he couldn't hear any thunder and the rest were superstitions, he could only be talking about one thing. "Timmy, where are you?"

"I'm in a closet!"

"Anyone with you?"

"Uh huh. My class! Mrs. Holkahm said to stay in here and be quiet! That's why I'm whispering."

"That's very good. Now you need to be very calm okay? Try to think of something happy, something nice. Like Alfred's cookies or… Mystery Dog. Ignore the sounds you hear outside." Those listening to him's eyes widen. Now they knew this wasn't a drill. Something was going on at the elementary division next door. They were in lock-down because of what was happening there.

"But I'm scared."

"I know you're scared," Dick continued, hiding his own fear as best he could. He couldn't have the kid having a panic attack in the middle of all of this. Timmy was already terrified of the sound of gunfire because of what happened to his biological father. He was just in the next room when it happened and found the bodies after all. "But letting yourself be scared isn't going to make the bad noise go away. Take a deep breath and think of something good far far away. Imagine you're back home and we're playing with the dinosaur. Daddy's there, and so is Jason and Cass and Alfred. Uncle Clark can be there too. We're all safe back home and just playing around like usual. It's hide and seek. You love playing hide and seek. You always seem to beat us."

"There's a lot of people hiding with me." The kid was starting to calm down, not breathing as harshly at least. But he had to be accurate, no matter what was going on around him.

"Sardines then. It's reverse hide and seek. Did you remember to turn on your watch?" The signal watch/tracer/mini utility tool they all wore would be really useful then. Whichever Leaguer was coming to help would be able to find him faster that way.

"We're only supposed to use it if we get kidnapped," Timmy corrected him, reciting what their dad said months ago.

Dick licked his lips, trying to calm himself just as much as he was trying to calm the boy. "This is one time you can use it too. The bad noise will stop sooner if you turn it on. Can you do that for me now?"

"Uh huh…" He could hear the kid put the phone down for a moment so he could use the thing properly. His hands were too small to handle both his phone and the watch. He used that moment to inform his classmates what was going on. They were getting confused and worried looks, his teacher included.

"Someone's attacked the elementary school, some gunman."

"Holy…" Several seventh graders clapped their hands over their mouths, gaping at him. Only one other in the class had a sibling there. Dick had three. Their teacher looked ready to faint, using the wall for support as he asked questions everyone was thinking. "How did they get past security?"

"Don't know," he murmured, "but if Joker's any indication, a determined crazy can get passed anything. Timmy you still there?"

"Uh huh." He could hear the fear in the boy's voice. Must have fumbled a lot while turning on his tracer. "Where's Daddy?"

His big brother took several deep breaths to calm himself, keeping the fear from his voice. "Daddy's going to be there as soon as he can. But I need you to be quiet now, just like in hide and seek. Just… Just listen to my voice and only my voice okay? Can you do that for me?"

Timmy sniffed on the other end, trying to stop his tears. "Uh… uh huh."

"Okay then… uhmmm…" His eyes looked around rapidly, trying to think of some way to calm his kid brother down. "Story. How would you like to hear a story?"

He pointed to a bookcase nearby and his classmate grabbed the first one he could find, handing it over. He never heard of the book before but it was a normal to small size and had a dragon on the front. Timmy liked to hear fantasy stories, and his class was united in helping him keep the kid alive. "Dealing with Dragons, by Patricia C. Wrede. Chapter one, 'In Which Cimorere Refuses to Be Proper and Has a Conversation with a Frog. Linderwall was a large kingdom…'"

* * *

It was little over two hours later when Dick was finally able to get to his siblings. Jason was being interviewed by the police and by _The Inquisitor_ for having pulled the alarm leading to disorienting the three crazed ex-security guards of the school. Superman was the one who came to the kids' rescue, personally coming to each room to give the all clear for the kids. Everyone knew and trusted him after all. Terrified kids were soon distracted by meeting him, making the whole situation less traumatizing.

Bruce wasn't too far from the interviews, sitting on a bench and holding his younger two tight to his chest. Cassandra was content holding onto her father's jacket and leaning against him with her eyes closed. Timmy buried his face into the man's shoulder, shaking madly from the whole ordeal. One of the gunmen had gone into his classroom. Dick heard it all over the phone.

The man looked up to the teen, worn from worry and concern for the younger ones. Cass was mostly okay, but she was also shot during her early years as training by her biological father. She was a lot harder to scare with a gun, which was both a blessing and a curse. Timmy's trauma though, that was by far the worse and they all knew it. Orphaned at three because of something he only heard… Hearing it was all he needed to be scared. Dick was the only one completely safe during the fiasco, and the only one who could do nothing but talk on the phone until help arrived. He held the book in his hand, unfinished and wondering if his brother would hate it because of the experience. His eyes were the same as his father's this time around.

Bruce looked back down to Timmy, murmuring in his ear. "Timmy, Dick's here. I think he needs a hug. Mind helping with that?"

For a moment the kid shook his head, then stopped and nodded, finally leaving father's shoulder. A bit sluggish, the boy scooted away from his dad, and was swiftly picked up by his big brother. Like a koala, Timmy hung onto him for dear life, burying his face now in the teen's blazer. Dick held onto him tightly, resting his head into the boy's hair. Knowing his baby brother was alright when he was so scared before was a comfort he never thought he'd have under these circumstances.

The place was supposed to be safe, and yet it was attacked by those who knew what they were doing. It looked like the only safe place they'd ever know was the one underneath the manor. Nothing was truly secure, only felt that way until some maniac decides otherwise.

Slowly he sat next to their father, gaining comfort that his family was safe. Soon Jason joined them, the adrenalin and excitement of his part in all of this starting to drain away. The police still needed their statements and Alfred needed some time to get a secure car over, else they'd have left as soon the dust cleared. The ten year old had acted brave and confident until then, but it crumbled very easily once he was out of everyone else's view. Jason was soon on his father's lap, leaning heavily against his broad shoulder, shaking slightly with his arms wrapped around him. The kid was tough and brave, but he was still a kid.

After a minute or two of silence, Bruce murmured over their heads just so they could hear. "You did good today, all of you. And you all came out of it alive. That's the best we can hope for."

It stung Dick a little bit hearing this. He didn't do anything but talk Timmy out of a panic attack. That should have been Bruce's job. He looked up to him, glaring slightly. "Why couldn't Timmy get in contact with you?"

The man looked down to him in understanding. "Because of the same reason I couldn't get you on the other line. Jason had called me, and the two of you were busy on your phones. I managed to get a hold of Cass, but for the most part she was fine."

He blinked, not thinking as clearly as he usually would. "Oh."

It made his father smile a little, nudging the teen a little. "Get some rest. You all deserve it. I'll tell you when Alfred's here."

Dick blinked a few more times, vaguely realizing that like the others, he'd been functioning on adrenalin ever since Timmy called. He was just a lot better at handling it. Nodding, he leaned against their dad and closed his eyes. Tomorrow would be another day, and they made it through that one.

* * *

*Dedicated to the survivors, victims, and heroes of the Sandy Hook Elementary School, Newtown Conn. Shooting, Dec. 14, 2012.*

A/N: yeah, I felt that having Timmy and Dick talking through the whole similar kind of event would be best. Yes Bruce still sends them there after all of this, but also takes a hand in improving the security. Jason is a little hero here and Cass was just in the building mostly unaffected by it all. Dick's school is just next door in my cannon so his place would also be in lock-down. the book Dick used to try and calm Timmy down is real and it's one of my favorites. Wrede is awesome! I remember lock-downs back in high school and thought they were boring.

As for my feelings about the shooting... I can only say psychos with guns are the problem, and a determined person can and will do anything they want regardless of what others try. My sympathies and prayers to everyone involved, and my thanks to God that he accepts every child straight home regardless of their state when they died. This knowledge helped me through losing my best friend when I was 7, and through every child's death ever since.


	72. Prank Calls

Pre-Dami. I'm still on hiatus really, but I had this idea and wanted to run with it. Don't know if this turned out that well but... *shrug* Got a story at the end.

Dick-13 Jason-9 Cass-7 Timmy-5

* * *

**Prank Calls**

"Seen in the third quarter, research and development has doubled its personnel, and tripled its product output. Non-lethal military projects seem to be our leading money-maker, but medical advancements are in higher demand. Computer division reports progress on their interactive screens, but it's slow going."

Mr. Bruce Wayne nodded as one of his younger executives reviewed the minutes from the last board meeting. That sounded about right. They covered what was going on in their Wayne Tech division mostly, the larger money makers. Wayne Medical worked alongside Drake Industries with several vaccines and research projects. Wayne Aerospace was working on getting a NASA project away from LexCorp. Several other divisions had their projects running smoothly as well, half of them designed to help the Justice League just as much as they were helping the rest of mankind without anyone being the wiser

It made the CEO smile. It was hard to imagine that seven years back he was wrestling for control of the place and changing its image into a positive light. Initially it was so he could finance Batman. Now it was to assist the Justice League's start and to give his children a better future. He was focusing on making the world a better place using his resources as a normal man. His parents would be proud. Alfred certainly was.

He leaned forward in his chair to pick at the files and project he was going to bring up. His agenda was very clear to him. There was a project Luthor was working on that could pose a danger to the League and the rest of the world. He had to propose a counter measure, a project that would either prevent or reverse what that cue ball was doing. There were those in the room who would support it because it was the right thing, and others who'd oppose it just to spite him. It was the people in the middle who looked at profits he needed to convince.

Nodding to his executive in records, the young man sat down. Lucius Fox gave everyone an encouraging smile before taking the lead for the board meeting. "Now that that's over with, any details from last month's meeting we need to go over? Sampson?"

A balding man sighed heavily. "There's been some progress with the cancer research but the process is slow. If we-"

The speaker in the center of the desk beeped loudly, telling everyone there was an incoming call from an important office. Everyone stared at it then at each other. All the branch heads were there. Who'd be calling in? Bruce scowled at it. Only a handful of people would dare call this number who weren't on the board. It didn't bode well to him. Cautiously Mrs. Decker over internal affairs pressed the answer button.

"Hello?"

"Hello beautiful!" A child trying to disguise his voice as a grown man answered, some giggling being heard in the background. "This is Bruce Wayne! Boy billionaire! You may have heard of me. I'm really rich. I own a mansion and a yacht. And I have four little angels. How would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow night?"

Everyone looked from the speaker to the real Bruce Wayne, whose face had turned red. Whether from anger or embarrassment no one could tell. Several of the people there were smothering smiles and Lucius Fox was covering his mouth and shaking with laughter. Both men recognized the voice perfectly well. '_Jason..._'

Mrs. Decker looked back from the man and the speaker, not sure what to do. Relenting a bit, her boss mouthed, 'Play along.' So she did. "That... sounds wonderful. Can I bring my husband along?"

There was a pause on the other end, then a muffled, "Oh crap," before the line cut. Mr. Fox couldn't contain his mirth at that point and broke into gales of laughter. Others snickered around the table. Quite the prank. Only one person wasn't amused by it.

"Please continue the meeting," their boss stated as he stood from his seat and headed towards the door. "I shouldn't be gone long. And my apologies Mrs. Decker. I will get to the bottom of this."

"Not a problem, really." The woman was trying hard not to smile, and failing. Kids...

He nodded. "If you'll excuse me."

As soon as he was out of the room, he heard them snickering and asking each other questions. Couldn't blame them for most of them, but there were a handful who didn't know at all who was on the other end. Well he did, and judging by the snickering behind the boy, he was certain there was an accomplice.

Quickly and silently he stormed down the halls and up an elevator two flights until he made it to his floor and office. His secretary Mrs. Dalton was busy working on some transcripts he gave her earlier, and the door to his personal space was closed. It was supposed to be open.

"Mrs. Dalton? Do me a favor and block all calls going to and from my office until further notice."

The old woman jerked her head up in surprise. She was clearly absorbed in what she was doing. "Mr. Wayne! What are you-"

"Block the phone line in my office please," he insisted again, trying to get to what laid beyond those doors. "And I'll need you to type up an email for... I'll get you a list as soon as I can identify who's been contacted."

"What? What happened?" The old secretary cocked her head in confusion. He ground his teeth together for a moment before answering.

"Someone's been prank calling from my phone."

Quickly he opened his office doors and took a cold look around the room. Dick and Cass were on the couch, working on her reading and vocal skills. Jason and Timmy could not be seen, though their backpacks were by his desk. His phone was also missing from its traditional place there.

The two on the couch cocked their heads in surprise, especially when he raised a finger to his lips to keep them quiet for a bit. His daughter merely raised an eyebrow while Dick looked really confused. Well who wouldn't be. Bruce had promised he'd be back in the office to take them home around five. He was far too early and Alfred wasn't done with his weekly shopping trip to change plans (which was why they were at the office and not home at the moment) so him being there was unusual. It became clear though when he glared over to his desk and the smothered giggles behind it.

"I wanna do the next one." Accomplice confirmed. Didn't matter how sweet his voice was over the phone, he was helping Jason.

"Fine. But if it's a guy, ask if his refrigerator's running."

Their voices were so low it was hard to hear them by the couches. No wonder he hadn't done anything about it. Quickly their father came over there, just in time to hear Timmy do a call of his own. "Hello? Are you single? ... Wanna go out with me? ... Okay... Bye..."

The phone hung up with a depressed Timmy pouting just out of view. Bruce just barely reached the desk to look over it when it clicked off. A company phone book was settled before them, a few numbers highlighted by himself for finding them easier. Must have been their first targets. Jason looked a little irked about the conversation.

"You were supposed to say you were Dad! Get him a date! A girlfriend!"

"That eager to get me married off too?" Both boys jumped at their father's voice, 'caught' written across Jason's face. Timmy was just surprised. "Didn't think you were that interested in having a mother in the house."

"Daddy!" Timmy leapt to his feet, eager to go. "You're done early! We're going home?"

"Not yet. And I'm not done either." His eyes fell on the older boy who was trying to hide his guilt, baldy. He knew what he did, and how wrong it was. "Jason, what are you two doing?"

"Playing."

"Uh huh." Bruce gave the boy a shrewd look before reaching down and taking the phone book. "Phones are to be used to contact people when you need to, not to fill in your boredom. My office phone is _not_ a toy. And this list... how many people did you call asking for dates?"

"What's a date?" Innocent little Timmy looked up to his dad expectantly, not knowing at all what he was asking for earlier.

Jason bit his lip. "I lost count."

"Fourteen!" The kid cheered. "We did fourteen numbers!"

His brother cast him a you-traitor glare, which only made their dad nod. "Alright. Do you remember which ones?"

"Yep!"

"Alright then. Timmy, I want you to take this book to Mrs. Dalton and point them out. She'll know what to do with them soon. Tell her what you two were doing and everything will be okay."

"Okay!" Cheerily, the little boy took the book and darted out of the room to where the secretary was, ready to tell all. It gave Bruce time to handle Jason.

"Oh, so because he told he gets a get out of jail free card huh?" Frustrated, Jason folded his arms and glared at his father. "Or is it because he's the youngest? Bet it's the youngest."

"He didn't know what he was doing," the man pressed. "You did. Homework done?"

Jason rolled his eyes. "Yes."

"Then there's something else I want you to work on." He reached into his desk and took out a file. "Read through this damage assessment and tell me if it's worth renovating this part of town. Wonder Woman and Cheetah had fun downtown last weekend."

"What?!" The boy gaped at his father for a minute. Couldn't blame him really. Bruce liked to dish out weird punishments. Handing over the file was nearly like taking out a tub of glue, covering him with feathers, and telling him to dance in the rain. Though that would be just as interesting for him, it wouldn't do for him. Jason had to learn his lesson and gain some sense of responsibility.

"This or you fold and organize clothes with Alfred later after staring at a corner for the next hour, with the entire board keeping tabs on you." He could hear the boy gulp. "You called the conference room. Maria Decker is the head of our tax office. You asked her to go on a date with me. Her husband is a linguist working with the UN. I'm certain they'd love to talk to you about this."

The kid cringed, knowing he was in trouble now. He took the file and looked at the couch. "This sucks."

"Should have thought of that before you started pranking everyone." Bruce smirked. "Everything comes with consequences Jason. Everything. Even a few prank calls."

* * *

A/N: a few years back when I first got my cell phone and was trying very very hard to get a job, this kid called me. He called me four times. One time I got him talking and he asked me out. This was a sweet sounding no older than 10 boy who asked me out and I had to decline. Ironically no one has asked me out since. I thought it was cute but a bit annoying too. It was a prepaid phone and each call hurt a slowly getting poorer. Still getting poorer.

Love how Cute Timmy gets off scott free because of being a tattle tale and Jason gets a funny punishment. Can't wait to see what else would happen if it continued. Dick and Cass aren't really in there. and I've now explained why Alfred doesn't just take everyone home after school. He needs to do the shopping some time. The door to his office was supposed to be open so his secretary could keep an eye on them too. Oh well. =P


	73. Alfred's Helper

Another Pre-dami! Someone at work told me about what her kid did, so I did this. And it's about time Alfred took center stage here.

Dick - 13 Timmy - 5

* * *

**Alfred's Helper**

One of the first rules every cook learns is to clean up after yourself. Always. There is no exception. All dishes must be washed and dried within an hour of the meal being completed, preferably within fifteen minutes. With the invention of the Dish Washer, most people have become lazy and neglected this one rule.

Alfred Pennyworth is anything but lazy.

So it was no surprise to the inhabitants of Wayne manor that the aging butler would be at the sink after dinner. Or lunch. Or breakfast. Or when he was finishing up his weekly baking. There were only a few places he was surely be at any given time of the day. Either he was dusting some corner of the house, doing laundry (sometimes he sent out a suit for dry cleaning but he did at least two loads a day), or in the kitchen. If he were not in any of those locations, he was usually with a member of the family.

Once in a while one or more of the Wayne children would accompany him in the daily chores. Dusting was typically a punishment, along with weeding, repairs, or organizing some part of the house, so they dodged him then. But smaller things that were strictly Alfred's, like dishes, cooking, or even laundry, were tasks different children would accompany him.

And no one was more interested in helping Alfred than one little boy.

He had just finished baking the weekly's allotment of chocolate chip cookies and was letting them cool when small feet started sneaking in to swipe their favorite treats. It was a game of theirs. If they could manage to sneak in and grab a cookie without Alfred seeing them, they could have it. But most times the man would spot them, make a noise, and they'd run away before they could be punished. He spotted Young Master Jason trying to sneak in twice before he gave up, and Master Richard miraculously manage to grab one without his knowing. Miss Cassandra not only slipped past him, she took three, giving one to her less fortunate brothers, both older and younger. Young Master Timothy though didn't bother trying to sneak around. He went straight to the man in charge.

"Alfred?" The little boy looked up to him with his stormy blue eyes, tugging on his pants to get his attention. "Can I have a cookie?"

The butler raised an eyebrow at the lad, secretly pleased. Manners were being taught at a young age certainly made certain this one didn't have any social troubles in the future. He was still working his magic on Masters Richard and Jason (neither were very agreeable). "Indeed you may Master Timothy, but only one."

"YAY!" Quickly the boy darted back to the counter and grabbed a fresh cookie for himself. "Thank you Alfred!"

"You're welcome." Alfred proceeded to scrub away at the dishes he used to make this batch, and the lunch dishes as well. He neglected to take care of them due to being behind on his baking. Flash had been by the other day and cleaned out the pantry while waiting for some information from Master Bruce regarding Poison Ivy. The lady scientist had started to run rampant and he needed to know what he was up against if he was going to take her down this time. A true test of the speedster's metal if he could resist her charms. After the visit he had to do an impromptu shopping trip to restock some staples.

A minute later the young master was back, looking up at the man working away at a pan. "Is something the matter Master Timothy?"

"What cha doin'?"

Internally the butler cringed. He needed to enforce his enunciation lessons along with manners with the older boys. They were teaching their speech patterns to their smallest member. "I am cleaning the dishes I used to make the cookies and today's lunch."

"Oohhhh..." Timmy watched him for a while before speaking again. "Can I help?"

This made the man smile. The lad's 'I do it' attitude was one thing he wished to encourage at every turn. Doing chores at a young age taught responsibility and started a work ethic. He'd need that in the future. "Indeed you can. Please bring a chair over from the table to help you reach the sink."

"Okay!" Running at a speedster's pace, the child darted over to the small kitchen table that saw more people than the one in the dining room, and started dragging a chair over to the butler's side. When it reached him, Alfred turned it to a stable position against the counter tops and encouraged the lad to get on top. Took a little doing (Timmy wasn't much of a climber) but soon he was able to reach into the soapy water without any problems. He looked at the dishes before him for a moment, then to Alfred, blinking owlishly at him. "What do I do?"

Smiling, the butler pushed aside some bubbles so he could see the dishes inside. "Well first we grab something in the soapy water that has been soaking for a while. I want you to take care of the spoons, plastic plates and cups, spatula, rubber scraper, and egg beaters. The rest are mine."

"Okay!" The boy reached into the water and took out a large spoon. "Now what?"

"Now, you take this wash cloth and wipe off any food or grime still on it." He passed over the wet cloth, watching him as he wiped the spoon clean. "Very good. Now, we put the spoon into the rinsing water on this side," he pointed to the clear water in the next sink over, "and after submerging it, place the spoon in the utensil spot on the drainer here."

"Ooohhh... Okay!" Quickly Timmy put the spoon into the clean water and then put it into the drainer, just like Alfred told him to. He smiled at the old man. "I did it!"

"Yes you did. Now," Alfred gave him a proud smile, "let's work on the rest of these shall we?"

"Okay!"

Soon the two of them were working merrily on the items soaking in the sink waiting to be cleaned. They only slowed down when a new item was given to the young master that he hadn't cleaned before. He especially loved cleaning the cups he was given, taking the soap up too along with the water then blowing the suds off the top. Alfred had to remind him there were other dishes that needed cleaning in order to continue onward. For a minute or so the lad even dipped the spatula in the soapy water then the clean water, back and forth, back and forth. A shake of the man's head and a giggle from the lad ended that game, but he still enjoyed working alongside the old man.

About twenty minutes later they heard a camera going off, making both of them look to the side in surprise. Master Richard had gotten a hold of one and taken a shot of them working together. He grinned at them, earning an eye roll from the butler. "Hey, I'm pretty sure Bruce will want to know how good of a helper Timmy is."

"I'm helping Alfred!" The kid was so pleased with himself. And their surrogate grandfather was too.

"Yes, something every child should be eager to do," Alfred encouraged. "For helpers are rewarded quite handsomely. Master Timothy, what shall we have for dinner tonight?"

"Pi-"

"Veggie-table Cask-ka-roll!" The younger brother's shout cut off the elder's, making the man smirk. One thing he enjoyed most about their youngest addition was how much he liked vegetables. He would grow up strong and healthy indeed.

"What?"

Alfred nodded, satisfied. "Very well then. Ve_ge_table Ca_sser_ole it is."

"WHAT?!" Needless to say, Master Richard was not that fond of the dish. It only made the old man smile a little more.

"I do believe there is an eggplant just ripe enough for it in the pantry too."

"YAY! EGGPLANT!" The five year old excitedly bounced on his chair.

"Why do we have to have that?!" The young teen's pouting only made the old man chuckle fondly. "It's not near as tasty as pizza!"

"Because Master Timothy was kind enough to ask for cookies and offer his help rather than repeatedly swipe them while my back was turned."

'CAUGHT' wrote itself across Master Richard's face. He and the others thought they could get away with taking about a dozen cookies off the cooling racks while the two of them had worked through the dishes. They were nearly all done too. This proved them wrong. Properly chastened, the teen looked down and thought things through before taking a towel off a nearby rack.

"If I help with drying them, can I pick dessert?"

"We'll see."

* * *

A/N: Okay, before anyone points it out, the eggplant bit was unintentional. It's just a typical thing in vegetable dishes, that's all. As for why Timmy likes veggies and Dick doesn't, I remember reading something where Dick and Tim were getting sandwiches from Alfred and Dick was dissing the cucumber sandwiches. Tim said he liked them. My nieces and nephews (different family groups, trust me) also seem to like veggies over pizza. They're all under 10. So... *shrug* Some veggie casseroles are pretty good. it all depends on the cook.

Now the dishes story my coworker told me involved a one year old and a spatula, going back and forth like that. I thought it was cute. I love the 'I Do it' attitude some kids have. Please encourage it.

Now, if you've got a kiddy fic you want me to do (because I'm not ready to progress on the timeline farther than 'Sacrifice' at the moment) tell me. Got one or two others I'm thinking about doing but haven't gotten to yet. Til then, TTFN!


	74. Lonely Child

Pre-Dami. I wanted to do another Cass Fic, and frankly I've asked the same question a few times. If anyone can recommend a Cass and someone else fic idea, please do! This kinda leads into a future fic I'm planning on but... oh well. This is before Cass and Tim are perpetually in the same class.

Cass - 9

* * *

**Lonely Child**

"Dad?"

"Hm?" Bruce Wayne looked over to his daughter reading on the couch in the study. He was working on a few reports while she worked through Huckleberry Finn. She was doing pretty well and liked the classics.

Cass looked up at him, slightly unsure. "Am I scary?"

He looked at the girl, blinking in surprise. Why would she be asking that? "Come again?"

"Am I scary?" From the look on her face, it was clear she'd been wondering this for a while. Why he didn't understand.

"I wouldn't think so... But then again, I was Batman." The CEO set aside his work and looked her over again. "Why are you asking?"

The small girl shifted in her seat, looking away. "No reason."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Cassandra..."

Biting her lip, she said nothing. But the troubled look on her face made him wary. Concerned, Bruce left his desk and walked over to his daughter's side. "Cass, you know I can't help you if you don't say anything. I'm not that good at reading people like you are."

She still said nothing, worry in her eyes. There was a familiar look there as well, like when she didn't know the right words to say. Though she was getting much better compared to where she was when they first met, and read books high schoolers were assigned, she still had trouble communicating clearly. He sighed. "Did something happen at school?"

She shook her head, stopped, then shrugged. Mentally the man ran through recent events. Last time she got in trouble there was because of a perverted teacher (broke his arm in three places in retaliation). Her classmates didn't bully her strictly because she was quiet and dangerous. Then again... "Are you enjoying school?"

Again she bit her lip and looked away, shrugging slightly. Again he mentally reviewed what information he had about her class and what occurred in her life. After a minute or so he stopped. She wasn't being bullied, but that didn't mean she had friends. "Cass, do you think people are scared of you at school?"

Cass looked up at him again, sadness in her eyes, then slowly nodded. Bruce sighed, beginning to understand the question. "Are you making threats? Or glaring at people?"

She shook her head. He considered her again, wondering if her eyes were tilted in such a way that she looked like she was glaring when she was expressionless. No, her blank face screamed bored, not 'go away'. Jason's had a natural glare and Timmy's often looked sad without his knowledge. It was rather frustrating for them. "I see... Do you try playing with the other children?"

She nodded, then looked away. Thinking over her reaction, he guessed she tried and was often rejected by the other kids. Maybe because they thought she was scary. Now everything was coming together. "Can you tell me who your friends are at school then?"

For a moment she bit her lips together, then finally started to speak in a small voice. "No friends. I... have no friends. Only brothers and Barbara. They... are not scared. It is... lonely."

Seeing the pain on her face, her father scooped her up in his arms and gave her the comfort she needed. Cass clung to the man, forgetting her book and letting the rare tears come out. Though she was one of the strongest people he'd ever know, she was still a little girl who wanted more than anything to be loved by someone. Her only friends were her hodgepodge family and the girl who found her when she ran away from her biological father. Even after learning how to speak, she wouldn't talk about what she had gone through since birth. It took a while for her to let her new family in too.

All she had for friends were the people who saved her from the monster she shared genes with.

Rocking his daughter slowly, he let her cry away her loneliness and tried to find words of comfort. To him and those whom he associated with, Cassandra was far from scary. There was a slight stony look to her, a defensive mechanism she developed during her first six years of life, but that could only be counted as intimidating. Those who knew her though could look past it. Very little kids did often, and Timmy was the first to break through her barriers after Barbara Gordon (who was so much like her father, never fearing the dark knight). Jason was a kindred spirit to her and slipped in next. Dick was the last to connect with her, and it still was a hard to understand relationship. And Bruce? Cass just opened up to him on her own, along with Alfred.

But they were different people than those in her class. Majority of them were male or older. All had seen the darkness and accepted that bad things happened, and they'd just have to deal with it. Her class, her school even, was filled with innocent, pampered children of privilege. They didn't know the darkness they saw, what Cass had endured and lived in for so long.

"Maybe to most people, we are scary," Bruce admitted, including himself. "Intimidating. We've looked into the abyss and seen things they never have. We've build up barriers to protect ourselves from it and all the evils of man. But... if we're patient and keep trying, one day we'll all find that special friend who'll see past our walls and accept us as we are."

He looked down on his little girl, giving her an encouraging smile as their eyes connected. "Dick did that for me, and then Uncle Clark. I didn't find a real friend until I became an adult. It's lonely, but in the end a real friend is worth waiting for."

Blinking at him for a moment, she pouted. "Dick has friends. Lots."

"Yes, but he's overly friendly too." A smirk came to his face. "Ask him who his best friend is some day. Jason has a handful of pals and allies, but he's never brought any of them home. Timmy has playmates at school, but again, no one he brings home. Have I made it clear yet?"

Slowly the girl nodded. Her father smiled, running a hand over her hair. "Good. One day you'll find a very good friend and you'll bring her home to meet us all. May even have a slumber party and be the one keeping us up late at night. I'll even volunteer one of your brothers to practice makeup on."

Cass gave him an amused confused look before giggling. That would be a sight indeed.

* * *

A/N: so I figured out how to put Steph into the story, and frankly I can't see her not being part of it in the future now. Cass needs a BFF, and though she's very cool adn solitary, every girl out there needs a friend, a real friend. She'll be like Barbara in there though, a minor character, adn not for some time.

I've talked to people a lot asking why I don't have a boyfriend or why I don't have a lot of friends. Conclusion: I have a natural glare and a creepy laugh. I also scare people with the sheer amount of knowledge I spew out without thinking. In short, I'm intimidating (which is weird because I'm also 5'2" and wear second hand clothes) without meaning to be. It's really lonely. So I relate well to Cass here. really need to develop her more.

Anywho, when it comes to suggestions, just a little note: be specific. I keep getting "Jason/Dami bonding" or "Dick/Dami bonding" fic requests, but no scenarios. Those don't grow on trees you know. How am I supposed to get them to bond if I don't have some kind of event? Also, I'm not planning on going any further back than when the League formed, so _stop asking for how they all came together_. If I ever do a DNB origin bit, it'll be separate from these stories. Same for when I bring in Terry and Matt (DNB Beyond will be a time jump _way_ in the future, after I've caught up with DCU). Thinking of doing a Bruce Wayne growing up story eventually as a baseline for how he became batman too, but that's neither here nor there. So, back to the note: be specific and don't ask for origins I've hinted at. Keep reading anyway. ;]


	75. A Domestic Attempt

Pre-Dami. Honestly, this came about because of a comment I made in someone else's fic. I know I've said I'm on hiatus here (hey, I haven't progressed the timeline any) but some lighter fics were needed in my head due to how dark and depressing some of the other fics I've been working on/getting out of the way, are. So, for giggles...

Dick-14 Jason-11

* * *

**A Domestic Attempt**

"Mac 'n Cheese," Dick insisted, almost begging the man. "Mac 'n Cheese. I know you can boil water, and there's a really easy trick to cooking noodles where it won't run dry and ruin the food, and pot."

His father gave him a side long look as he poked through the dinner recipes Alfred had prepared years ago. "I'm perfectly capable of cooking meat and vegetables Dick."

"Not from where I'm standing!" Bruce glared at him but it had little effect on him. This was an emergency situation for him. Alfred was gone for a week, and in the Wayne household, that was not something to look forward to. They knew they could handle the day to day cleaning and they could always send their clothes out for cleaning if they ran out and didn't want to try doing laundry (Dick and Jason weren't too bad at it, except ironing). Bruce could always manage to drive everyone where they needed to be, and if not him he could get Lucius Fox or Leslie Thompkins to help. They weren't about to run out of food and could always order out. No these were not the reasons they dreaded Alfred leaving.

It was because no one could stop Bruce from trying to cook dinner.

"Look, you remember when you tried lasagna? Too spicy, burnt on top, soggy on bottom, and half the meat was raw. And you put in baby corn, peppers, and okra. Were you trying to make gumbo or lasagna? And you used ketchup and salsa for the sauce. Really? What were you thinking?!"

"The pages were stuck together," the so-not-perfect man growled. "I'm using his recipe cards this time."

"The recipe for Mac 'n Cheese is right in the box!" Dick waved over to a box of instant Macaroni and Cheese. Officially they were emergency rations. Unofficially they were the kids' snack when Alfred's back was turned and they wanted something hot. Both Jason and Dick had grown up on it and knew how to follow the instructions there, even before they could read. Even knew how to make it taste better.

"Instant foods have artificial ingredients," the man stressed. "Those aren't good for a growing body."

"Then cut up some fresh vegetables and serve them! There's plenty of carrots, celery, broccoli and cauliflower in the crisping drawer. There's cans of corn and beans in the pantry too. And there's bananas, berries, apples and oranges lying around." The young acrobat was about to bring out the puppy dog eyes to beg he wouldn't try using the stove. "They'll make up the nutritional difference. Just please! Don't cook anything!"

"Dick," a final tone entered his voice, telling him this discussion was over, "I'm perfectly capable of cooking dinner. Just go finish your homework and make sure no one's make a mess of things."

Dismayed and feeling it was inevitable, he tried one last time. "Please don't do this. Just do some instant stuff and fresh fruit and vegies instead. Alfred will totally understand. And a little artificial ingredients won't kill us. We could always eat out until Alfred comes back instead. I hear-"

"It's a school night." Bruce came up to the boy and started pushing him out of the kitchen. "You have homework. Get busy on that and let me figure out this recipe. Now."

"But-"

"NOW!"

Out of the oh so nice kitchen and in the hallway attached to the fancy dining room, Dick knew his fate was set in stone. Slumping his shoulders, he walked towards the main part of the house and the grand staircase and started towards where the rest of his family was waiting. In the entertainment room, they had gathered to watch TV and do their homework at the same time (most of their stuff was done already anyway). And Dick was doing recon to see what dinner was.

"Bad news everybody." Someone pause the show to they could listen to him better. The teen pouted as he delivered the message of doom. "Bruce is cooking. From scratch."

Each of his siblings' eyes doubled in size, knowing exactly what that meant. Sighing, Jason got out of his seat and headed towards the door. "I'll go find a fire extinguisher."

* * *

The place smelled. Smoke from the hot pad their dad carelessly burned to a crisp was still going strong. Jason managed to hand over the extinguisher in time, but Bruce's aim was too good to ruing the food this time. Their one shot of not having to eat his horrid cooking was blown because of Batman's accuracy. Grudgingly they sat around the table and stared at the concoction the man had cooked up.

It was fish. It was supposed to be a white fish, but somehow it turned out brown. Dark brown. Bruce insisted it wasn't burnt. Well it didn't flake like other burnt things. What the seasoning was on top was a mystery. Boneless fish meat, each cooked thoroughly (he cut each one open to be certain). There were some cooked vegetables set next to each piece of meat, but they were all covered in some sauce and diced up so thoroughly that they couldn't tell what was what. Then there was the rice. It hardly looked cooked.

"Maybe Dad can't boil water," Jason murmured, getting a muffled snicker from his siblings. There was a subtle cough just behind him and guiltily he looked up to where their father was looming over them.

"Try it," Bruce insisted. "You may like it."

The four children exchanged worried glances then took up their forks. Timmy went for the veggie concoction while Cass tried the rice. Dick went for the meat and Jason tried putting a little of everything on the same utensil. They could hear the crunching of the rice coming from Cass and Jason's mouth. Timmy immediately grabbed his water to help him swallow his mouthful of veggies. Dick just swallowed the fish best he could, smacking his lips loudly when he was done.

"Well, I'm full."

"Me too." Quickly each of the Wayne children dropped their forks on their plates and ran out of the room. "Enjoy dinner Dad!"

"Hey!" Bruce gaped after the four of them, not quite fast enough to stop them from fleeing the table. "Get back here and finish your dinner!"

Jason grinned, stopping in the doorway for a moment. "Nah, we're good. One bite filled us right up. Try it. You might like it."

The cheeky grade schooler ran before his dad could stop him, taking a quick path to a deserted part of the manor. Even the owner of the place didn't know every nook and cranny of the house. Knowing he'd never catch up, Bruce huffed out a frustrated sigh. Sure his cooking wasn't Alfred's level, but it certainly couldn't be that bad. Taking up his own fork, he tried his cooking.

Bitter and spicy, crunchy where it should be soft, mush when it should be firm. A hand went to his face and he groaned. And he was certain he followed the recipe this time.

Unknown to him, the four children who ran away from his cooking, had a visitor sneaking in through one of the many windows there with a picnic basket. Superman grinned as he was greeted by Dick and the others. "Special delivery from Kent Farms! Who wants chicken pot pie?"

* * *

A/N: isn't it cannon that Bruce can't cook, despite how much he tries? I do hear he can boil water though, and can make soup. Good thing Grandma Kent is such a willing cook. XD There was one time my dad made dinner and put a fist full of pepper into the stew. My dad's not a bad cook, really, but that night no one could eat what he made. I have a low spice tolerance but high in other places. Seriously, no one but him could figure it out. I think after it we all made ramen or sandwiches for ourselves and he was told to eat the stew himself. And yes, you can melt a metal pot. A friend did it.

Now a quick, easy way to do noodles/rice that my mom taught me: boil water in a over half full pot. Just water (can add salt if you want). When it's at a roaring boil, put in the noodles/rice (rice triples in size so measure accordingly). Turn off the heat, put on lid. Leave it alone for 20 minutes. Drain. Serve. Viola! If you can boil water, you can cook noodles/rice! Guaranteed being cooked. If you want it to be part of a special recipe though (like lasagna) better follow their instructions instead.


	76. Not Giving a Hoot

Okay guys, this one is foreshadowing an arc in the FAR future, but I thought it'd be a nice twist all the way around. Just remember, I like certain ideas and I know how to twist arcs to make them work with my world here. X3 I think this takes place between a Father's request and the first official DNB story here. 10pts if you can ID a cameo from one of my earlier stories and where they come from!

Dick-12

* * *

**Not Giving a Hoot**

If there was one thing Bruce hated more than criminals, particularly the laughing kind, it was being called to the principal's office. Repeatedly. Honestly he thought Dick would have stopped picking fights for a while longer when he left elementary school, but apparently not. The twelve year old was determined to make his face known to this principal too.

It took longer to find this one's office than the previous, but that was to be expected. He hadn't had to visit it as frequently as the elementary school, yet. He was beginning to think his kids were forcing him to be familiar with all forms of authority around them. Coming to the receptionist, he could see the school paramedic (some paper going around wanted to take away the term 'nurse') leaving one hallway with a first aid kit in hand. Already the CEO could guess what the man's day had been like. "Wayne to see Principal Stacy."

The lady manning the front desk blinked at him a few times in confusion then realized she was being talked to. The personnel there really needed some work. "Oh! Yes, yes... Mr. Wayne..." She cocked her head up at him after looking through some notes. "That wouldn't be _Bruce_ Wayne would it? The guy who's married to an alien princess?"

The man groaned internally. One of his angry ex-business partners decided to get even with him by exploiting his past of questionable choices for girlfriends. _The Inquisitor_ took it to the next level. Thank heavens it was a trashy tabloid no one really believed. "You're thinking of the man who lives in a tree and eats cocoa beans. Could you direct me to the Principal's office please?"

"Oh! Right." She pointed a half chewed pencil down a hallway. "Down that way, take a right, third door on your left, right across from the VP office. Can't miss it."

Bruce gave her a slight smile in thanks before taking off. They really needed to work on personnel there. Then again, so did the elementary school before he took a look at it. Trying to obey her instructions, he marched down that hallway and took his first right. That led him to a bathroom. Glaring, he stepped back and took the second one.

There he spotted someone he did not want to deal with. Maria Powers, one of the owners of the Powers Hotel chain. Her son Derek was standing at attention before her, his arms scratched up, his clothes dirty, and a black eye forming rather nicely on his right side. A few bandaids were on his face, hands, and arms, and a cold pack was in one hand, showing he was the one getting medical attention earlier. The young man had to be eighteen.

"Excuse me," he started, getting their attention briefly, "could you direct me to the principal's office? The young woman at the front gave me bad directions."

True she had, but he just wanted them to get out of the way. They were deliberately blocking the door. Derek glared at him coldly, not hiding his contempt for him though he said nothing; the lad was learning. Mrs. Powers gave him an icy smile but stepped aside to let him pass. "It's right here, Mr. Wayne."

"Thank you." He gave her the customary cordial nod and smile, then knocked on the door politely.

"Enter!" The principal's invitation was all he needed to swiftly step into the office. The first thing he saw was the balding man behind the desk, and Dick slouched in a chair before him. The preteen's hair and clothes were a bit of a mess and it looked like his cheek would be bruised for a bit, but other than that he seemed fine. Physically. It was clear he was bored in the office, proud of his accomplishment, and mad at his opponent. Principal Stacy on the other hand was just ticked. "Mr. Wayne, please have a seat."

Bruce tried to get some eye contact with his son, but he wouldn't look in his direction. Guilt was being called in now. He knew how much the man hated being called in because of a fight. Frowning slightly, he took the seat next to his son. "Is something the matter?"

"Richard initiated a fight this afternoon between passing periods with one of the upper classmen." Stacy gave him a pointed look. "A highly respected senior at that."

Dick snorted, clearly not agreeing. His father merely raised an eyebrow at him. "Really? Is that so..."

"Derek Powers is the student body president and salutatorian. He's also the star player of our basketball team. And for no apparent reason," he turned a sharp glare on the twelve year old, "your adoptive son decided to beat him into the ground."

"There's a reason," the lad murmured. "You just won't listen to it."

"Your so-called reason has nothing to back it up with," Stacy insisted, glaring daggers at the acrobat. "Powers is a model student! You on the other hand-"

"Have a history of fighting," Bruce finished, pinching his brow. This was a problem of theirs, since the beginning. Every time Dick saw an injustice or was picked on excessively, he'd physically retaliate. Otherwise he was a pretty easy going guy. "Dick... how many times do I have to tell you: if you're going to pick a fight, keep it off campus."

"I tried!" Finally the boy turned to see his father, insisting dramatically. The surprise on the third man's face was aptly ignored by the two of them as they talked. "But he's got goons everywhere! That high and mighty rube's been trying to make me and half my class into his servants all year! _His servants!_ Said a gypsy boy like me was only worthy to clean up after him! Even said he owned me! _Owned me!_ Like I was some kind of slave!"

Angry and frustrated, the lad leapt to his feet and started pacing the room as he flung his arms everywhere, dramatically describing what had been transpiring. "And he specifically picked me out to be his little gofer boy! I keep saying no and he then has one of his goons grab one of my classmates to haze if I don't do what he wants! You should hear about the fights I haven't gotten caught for! You think those hand breaks in the football team were coincidental?"

Dick's pointed look at the principal did not help the lad's case, only scared the man behind the desk. Then the kid backpedaled. "Course it's not my fault none of them know how to fall. I thought after those photos me and Babs took, he'd leave us all alone! Then today I saw him pushing around a new kid! They threw him in the cafeteria trash bin! Do you know how bad that is?!"

"I have an idea," Bruce murmured, seeing what was going on now. There was a lot going on he didn't know about until then. Dick was bullied, something to be expected considering he was a year ahead of his age group in school. The kid knew how to fight and had a strong sense of justice. Though he could be sneaky and conniving (loved to pull pranks and mess with people's heads), he tended to go straight for the kill whenever he saw a crime taking place. Apparently Derek Powers was less of a model citizen than the principal was paid to believe.

"So when I confronted him about it today, he got all snide and prissy, saying he was better than everyone!" There was a snarl in the acrobat's voice, something they didn't hear very often. "He insulted Barbara, Steve, Marco, Jess, even made a stab at Bette! He said I only had two redeeming qualities, and neither of them would be of worth pretty soon. And he even had the gall to say I was better off dying with my parents!"

At this, the man's heart turned cold. The nerve of this boy... Dick continued. "Said at least then my body could be sold for parts!"

"Hold it right there young lad!" Principal Stacy jumped to his feet, not liking the implications. "Mr. Powers is not in the business of selling human body parts."

"I know what he said!" His angry glare snapped at the man before them. "He doesn't even see me as a person! To him I'm some tool! Less of a person than what most of these prats see me as!"

The man didn't catch or didn't care how the boy was doing in that school. "Well if you started behaving like a-"

"Regardless of how the other person acted," Bruce started overriding the principal before he made a grave error in judgment, "it's against school rules to start a fight like that Dick. You know this."

This made both of the others stop for a moment. The kid looked away, abashed at last. "I know..."

"If I read the school manual correctly," he continued, "since this is your first offence here, a written reprimand and three days suspension? Am I right Principal Stacy?"

He looked over to the one who was losing his temper at his son, giving him proper authority once again. The man nodded, regaining control of himself. "That's correct."

"And the other party is receiving the same," the CEO added, making sure justice was served.

"That's a-"

"According to your written school policies," he stated flatly, "_all_ members of the fighting party, regardless of who started it or if the other did not fight back, are suspended for three days minimum. No exceptions."

This made the administrator stop, dread and donning coming to his eyes. A slight, knowing smirk sparked on Wayne's face. He was the richest man in Gotham, one of the richest in the world. He had a hand in nearly every field out there, including a considerable amount of weight on the board of education. If he reported favoritism to anyone, it'd be the principal's hide on the line. Stacy nodded, choking back an earlier comment. "You're right, of course. Mr. Powers will also be suspended for a few days."

"Oh great." Dick's voice dripped with sarcasm. "Three days without him pushing anyone around and I can't be around to enjoy them either. That sucks." He rubbed his bruised cheek, scowling to the side.

"Rules are rules Dick," Bruce reminded him. "You should have thought of them before throwing the first punch."

"It was more of a first kick actually," the lad admitted, shrugging his shoulders. "Pretty one sided too. And you're one to talk about due process."

"Did you win?" It was a question he was dying to ask, though he knew the answer already. Still, he wanted to know how his son beat a six foot senior on the basketball team.

"Heck yeah!" Grinning, no matter how much trouble he was in, the acrobat excitedly came to his father's side and started dramatically telling him exactly what happened. The dismayed principal moved around his desk to summon the Powers back in to finish the meeting as they talked. Dick quickly wrapped it up as the door opened. "Honestly the rube can't fight worth beans. Jason could have beaten him. Barely was able to slap me away. If it weren't for that security guard, I'd be 100% fine."

"That bruise came from a guard?" He eyed the red mark turning purple on his face with distaste.

"In his defense I wasn't exactly thinking at that point and the punch knocked some sense into me. You know how I can get." The lad rubbed his cheek again. "I think I chipped a tooth in the process though."

"I'll take you to the dentist tomorrow," Bruce promised just as the principal explained things to Mrs. Powers. She was livid.

"What do you mean he's suspended?! That circus brat is the one responsible!"

"Mrs. Powers please!" Stacy tried to explain. "School rules require he's suspended for three days, that's all. You can collect his homework and there shouldn't be any problems with his club activities or positions, but he has to stay home for the next few days."

"What do I pay you for?!" Dick and Bruce gave each other knowing looks as they heard the woman's tirade, quickly tired of her. Typical rich lady. Thought money got her everything she wanted.

"Governing a school I hope," Dick muttered. Derek glared at him coldly, as if he were a dog that bit him. Bruce spotted it and was glad his son merely rolled his eyes in response, letting it go. Kid never really felt the powers of glares unless they came from Alfred.

"Ma'am," the principal started again, "the school system has rules and we all have to obey them. Richard has agreed to the punishment and admits he did wrong. Mr. Wayne has reminded me how no one's exempt from the rules."

"And how much has he bribed you to keep the thing here?"

That was it. Bruce got to his feet, his protective batglare firmly in place as he stepped forward to block Dick from view and make it clear he would not be tolerating her snide comments about his son. The lad's ears had started burning at her barbed words; he hated being considered less than human. He was very human, and one of the best in his father's opinion though the boy doubted himself on occasion. This was going too far.

"Mrs. Powers," he started, stepping forward once again. He had all their attentions now and he intended to keep it, by speaking slowly and rationally while being as threatening as possible. "Need I remind you, no one is above the law? As school is a simulation of the real world, the rules here are the law. No one is above it. Both boys are suspended for the same amount of time, end of story.

"And if you think you can remove my son because he defended his morals and honor from your boy's intentions and past agressions, you have another thing coming. You try to manipulate the system against us and I will take legal action."

The temperature dropped dramatically, making the kid behind him's jaw drop. Bruce was ready to take and enforce punishment, but it had to follow the rules of the school. Taking it to a different level was a fight no one should want, especially with him. They knew the Powers were now powerless. The man looked over to the principal again. "Three days suspension, effective immediately correct?"

Stacy nodded, swallowing. "Uh, yes. Not counting today in the three days that is."

"Understood. Dick," he glanced back to the kid still in his chair, "we need to drop by your classes before going. Care to give me the tour?"

"Yes sir!" Instantly he whipped about his chair and grabbed his backpack next to it, leaping to his father's side. He grinned wolfishly at Derek. "Catch ya later highness."

"Until next time..."

The two were out of the office and down the hall before the Powers could say a single word more. They didn't have to really. The Waynes won, all around the board. Bruce eyed his son for a moment. "Wipe that smirk off your face. You're still grounded."

"I know," Dick answered chipperly, "but it was worth it. That guy is such a jerk and kept threatening me with some weird poem."

"Weird poem?" That made him sound like a theme villain that normally trucked around Gotham.

"Yeah." He looked up at the man as they signed the lad out of school and to get a pass for him to travel through the school to take care of Dick's homework. "He kept quoting it so I think I got it memorized."

"What was it?" The CEO was curious how a poem could be threatening to this kid who played with words whenever he got the chance.

"Don't know the name, but it went like this:

Beware the Court of Owls, that watches all the time,

Ruling Gotham from a shadow perch, behind granite and lime.

They watch you at your hearth, they watch you in your bed,

Speak not a whispered word of them or they'll send a Talon for your head."

Dick looked up at Bruce and the receptionist as they stilled at the poem. The young woman raised an eyebrow in curiosity but his father was upset. That poem... He heard it as a kid and believed it was some kind of omen, that his parents were killed by the Court of Owls for a while. His son blinked at him confused. "Is... it some kind of taboo subject?"

"It's a fairy tale, urban legend." He really didn't want to talk more about it but he knew Dick wouldn't stop asking questions until he got his answers. Taking his pass and pinning it to his jacket, he continued. "The Court of Owls is supposed to be a secret society controlling Gotham in the shadows, using 'Talons' as assassins when someone's angered them. They don't exist. I already looked into them."

"Really?" A bit of confusion appeared on the boy's face. He nodded to confirm but the kid was still troubled. "Then why did that jerkwad call me his 'Talon'?"

Bruce sighed heavily. "Clearly he's deranged and is making his own version of the Court of Owls. Maybe calling you his 'Talon' is his way of acknowledging your abilities while trying to achieve dominance over you."

"Not working."

"No, it's not." The two walked away, not thinking much of this conversation ever again. They simply passed it off as the ramblings of a bully disguised as a gentleman.

* * *

A/N: Though I can't make the recent arc work in my world, I can do the Court of owls, in the very far future. Lobdell may have ruined the Titans (RIP the real Tim Drake, Conner Kent, Cassie Sandsmark... and maybe Bart Allen) but Snyder's doing pretty good with the characters... that I've seen... *ducks for cover just in case* Anywho, far future, court of owls. It will happen... one day...

Anywho, I took a look at the math in my head and realized Derek Powers in the Beyond series wouldn't be much older than Dick. For the most part in this series, he forgets about the guy and moves on (so many bullies he deals with). I plan on having the Powers in DNB Beyond (hints on the future cast in my DA scrapbook page) as a constant annoyance, but they're not going to be appearing very much here if at all. That's the plan for the Powers.

In other news... due to constant nagging, somehow I've got this idea for DNB origin stories. Been working on cover art today. Will work on Each kid's mini series in the future too, even know how to start it and who's telling the story. Still want to do a young Bruce series but like many others, they're on hold until I can get the ones on my desktop done. There will be five at least, seven when the Beyond part takes off. If anyone wants to help me in the future organize all these crazy tales somewhere else do tell. Haven't seen any fanart for this series on DA yet so I think I'm just being vain (wouldn't surprise me if that's the case either) so don't worry about this either way.

Rambling now. Go read someone else's stuff. Sly and Xenitha are awesome!


	77. Deadly Awakenings

Okay, this is set between Sacrifice's end and the epilogue. No I'm not really proceeding with the story yet. I just felt it was a good setting for the event. This is kinda a reaction to everything I've read online about Batman inc. #8 and so forth. Enjoy!

Dick-17 Damian-3

* * *

**Deadly Awakenings**

Bruce bolted upright in his chair, trying hard to regain his breath. He couldn't control the tears streaming down his face. His throat closed in on itself as he felt his insides being carved out of him. His heart felt like it was breaking over and over again, as if he were still there. He could swear he was only asleep for an hour, but the dream, the nightmare he had was so real!

Trembling, he looked around the cave from his chair. He was only going over a mission with the League until he dozed off, so tired after all those months of worry and stress. Looking at the screen, the detective figured out why he had such a terrifying dream.

The League had a confrontation with Ra's and Talia recently. They were experimenting with hypnotism and cloning. Only a few months ago they threatened to take Damian away from him if they couldn't find Dick by summer. They met the requirements to keep him, but the League of Assassins was stirring around Gotham. They were all on high alert until they could get them quiet again.

And after what happened with the probes last month...

Visions of his nightmare flashed through his mind. His son was older, stronger, a hero. And he...

Driven by the images flashing in his mind, Bruce bolted from his chair upstairs, desperate to banish them. The early morning dawn barely illuminated the windows as he ran upwards, a single destination in mind. He could see one of his children's doors opening just as he passed by it, but he didn't pause to see who or acknowledge them. The frantic father stopped in front of the nursery door, pressing an electronic panel next to it to unlock the door (recent security measure he added since the warning became a likely outcome). It scanned his hand and allowed him entrance. Opening the door, he could see exactly who he was looking for.

Little Damian Wayne was sleeping soundly on the small bed he occupied. His favorite bat covered blanket was snuggly wrapped around his tiny body. He snuggled his favorite toy, batkitty, drooling slightly on the doll's cowl. His other blankets were scattered around the bed itself, along with all the pillows and toys he had originally around him when his father put him in bed the previous night. The only other one remaining on the bed was a stuffed robin similar to those Angry Birds dolls he'd seen flying around Dick had given him that Christmas. It was being used as a pillow.

His father couldn't help but to smile lovingly on his child as he relaxed against the doorframe. All the panic and fear, the dread from the nightmare, started to melt away. He still couldn't quite control his tears or throat, but he could at least stop the terror within him. Slowly and quietly, hoping not to disturb him, Bruce walked up to his bed and knelt beside him. The three year old didn't even stir as he brushed his hand against the boy's cheek. So peaceful, so beautiful, so alive.

Images from his nightmare taunted his mind again. Picking up a broken body... knowing it was Damian... seeing his lifeless eyes... Not for the first time he was glad he stopped being the dark knight so he could raise his children properly. If he had continued down that path, it was likely his son would die like this. He didn't care if the good died young. His son was going to have a long and full life.

"Daddy?" A sleepy voice took him out of his revere. Damian's cloudy grey eyes blinked at him, barely awake if at all.

Bruce smiled at him, trying to bury his fears once again. No need to scare the toddler. "I'm here."

"Bwekfast?" He started to get up, but his dad shook his head.

"No, not breakfast. Go back to sleep." Damian grunted a yes and started to close his eyes again. Thinking twice, the man carefully picked up the boy and started to rock him, keeping him as close to him as possible. This only called his son's attention back to his face.

"What wong?" Those innocent eyes looked into his, curiosity and concern inside them. A small hand went to his face, feeling the tear tracks still on his face. "Why you sad?"

Again the father tried to push back his fears for his son's sake, bringing the most comforting smile he could to his face. He took the lad's hand in his and brought it back to the doll he picked up with him. Slowly he sat back on the bed, keeping the boy in his arms. "Daddy had a nightmare. But I'm alright now that you're here. Go back to sleep."

Blinking, Damian nodded then yawned. Snuggling up to his father, the tot dozed back off into slumberland, knowing he was safe and warm in his daddy's arms. Bruce just watched him as he nodded off, the tension inside him leaving with every passing second. His baby wasn't going anywhere. No matter what, he was going to keep his family in one piece.

"Really bad nightmare huh?"

Bruce looked up at the whisper, slightly startled. Dick stood in the doorway, blue sweats and white tank on instead of PJs. It was likely he was going to start working out in the gym, something he did most mornings since being released from captivity. The teen's nightmares were near impossible to overcome these days, but he'd only been home a couple weeks. The anklet stuck out on his leg, but it was something they had to deal with. His weathered look too. The psychologist said it'd be a bit before he could honestly smile from his heart.

His father nodded. "Had few like it."

The acrobat nodded, choking back something. He looked away, then started speaking. "When the... when the probes were activated... how bad was it?"

He looked over the teen, a bit worried for him. Dick could figure out what kind of dream he had so easily, just by what he did as soon as he woke up. He only assumed it had to be the probes, not another method of death or torture. Come to think of it, he hadn't kept up with League activities since his disappearance. He didn't know what was going on outside the manor.

"I'll let you read the medical reports later." Bruce opened an arm towards him. "Come here."

The lad didn't need a second invitation; Dick flew to his side, wrapping his arms around both the man and child as if he hadn't seen them in weeks. He'd become rather cuddly lately, more so than usual that is. His trauma would take time to overcome, and Dick was always of the physical sort. He needed to know someone was alive by touch whenever he was scared.

That was one thing the two of them had in common. He held onto both of them for a long moment in silence before kissing the teen's head. "Want to talk about it?"

"Not really." His father nodded, letting the matter drop. After a moment, the teen looked up to him. "Hey, if it ever comes down to saving me or Damian, pick Dami, okay?"

Bruce raised an eyebrow, worry coming to him. "Can't I save you both?"

Dick shook his head. "I can save myself. Dami needs you ten times more than I do. If you have to choose, pick him."

A scowl came to his face. "And how would I explain it to your parents if I did that?"

"How could you justify it to me if you didn't?" At an impasse, the man looked away. His son sighed. "I'm just saying... he has a lot more to look forward to with you. I can manage on my own."

"Really?"

He shrunk away slightly, not letting go of them. "Maybe."

Bruce nodded, understanding a little. He settled his eyes on his youngest and just watched him sleep, taking comfort that he was alive and well. They all were. No one was going to take these little lives away from him, let alone Talia.

No one was going to hurt his family, and he would never have to choose. Ever.

* * *

A/N: I solemnly swear, I WILL NOT BE KILLING OFF BATKIDS! You saw how I handled 'Death in the Family'. There will also be no Harper Row in this story. I don't care what role she has in the future, she does not belong in DNB. Other than a few gems out there, I'm sticking pre-52 here. I have a lot of plans for the kids' futures, and typically when I kill off people, they stay dead. There will be exceptions in this story as this is a DC universe, but I'm not that fond of zombies.

That being said, RIP Damian Wayne of the current continuity (which sucks and doesn't really exist. curse you 52!). You will be highly remembered as the lovable little snot we accepted as Bruce's son at first light but took a little longer to accept as Robin before Dick became Batman. I only pray that whatever this Trinity War is they're hinting at in the future, it'll result in your revival. They really need to throw Bruce a bone here... 7 years in official existence, 5 as Robin... that's just not enough. And I'm beginning to see a pattern at DC. They like killing off or deleting kids of heroes. Evil... evil men... *shakes head*

Well, back to everything else! and yes, I'm still working on the extended version.


	78. Sacrificial Hearing

Okay, this is a little bit of progression since sacrifice. It's just a taste of what I have planned between the story's end and the epilogue (yes, I'm gonna fill in that gap). Still working on the extended version but it is being worked on. More details at the bottom. FYI, even though Bruce used his jet as calateral earlier, he stayed behind while sending Alfred, Jason, Tim, and Cass back to Gotham so they could return to school. Another name drop here too, and he's kinda OOC, but his is him dealing with Dick, a kid, over the League. Just so you know. And I'm not a lawyer, officer, or anything to do with the law, so please don't bite off my head. I learned all I could from TV shows. X[

Dick-17 Damian-3

* * *

**Sacrificial Hearing**

Dick fiddled with his cufflinks and tie constantly as he anxiously waited to meet with the judge. Bruce and Damian were next to him, similarly dressed for success, but so were three officers. Their lawyer was inside. Stan Lease seemed confident about this meeting, having already talked to the DA numerous times in the past two weeks. They all had. Right then Jack Barns was finishing the deal brokering with the judge, bringing all the evidence to him and explaining everything they worked out. All they needed was approval.

Considering how many crimes Dick committed while in Slade's hands though, he wasn't very confident. The teen was scared, more scared and nervous than he'd been in a long time. Or at least in a different way. Living in terror for your life and your family's if you didn't do what a bad man said is one kind of fear. This was a fear for the future, of the unknown. If things didn't go well that day, he'd be condemned to a criminal record and could be taken away from Bruce. Juvenile hall, then maybe a proper correctional facility, the horrors of those places and having to go there haunted his mind. Weeks ago he said he was ready to go to jail if it satisfied the system, but that was if murder was on the table. He hadn't killed anyone.

A reassuring hand fell on his shoulder, making him look at Bruce for a moment. He gave him his best reassuring smile while juggling Damian in his other arm. The three year old wouldn't hold still. "It's going to be alright. You'll see."

Swallowing, Dick nodded. Seeing he was still uncomfortable, the man passed his baby to him. Damian being on his brother's lap brought a small smile to his face. The toddler was hard to resist, and when he started talking about batkitty, cuteness could not be denied. "Batkitty woves jewwo! We have jewwo now! Daddy want jewwo! Dick want jewwo! jewwo!"

"What flavor?"

The kid thought about it for a moment then smiled. "PINK!"

That gained a snort from two of the officers nearby and a chuckle from his dad. Dick smirked fondly. "Pink is strawberry in Jell-O land. Can you say strawberry?"

"Strawberry!"

"It's 'L's he's having trouble with," Bruce reminded him, smirking slightly, "but he'll grow out of it. Someone has surprisingly good diction."

"That he does." Dick smiled broadly at the little boy and started rubbing noses with him. This sent the kid into a giggle fit, easing the knots in the young man's stomach a bit.

"Mr. Wayne, Mr. Grayson?" An officer who was in the judge's chambers leaned out, waving them in. "Judge Harris will see you now."

And once again the stomach turned. His grip on his brother tightened a bit, holding him close to his chest as they went into the room that'd decide his fate. Bruce and Stan exchanged nods upon entry while Barns offered seats to them before Harris' desk. The DA stood next to the aging judge as the two sat before him, his face still and resigned. This wasn't a hearing or a trial for them to prove anything, it was merely a deal. Everything was being handled with Dick out of court.

His breath quickened a bit as he looked around. He spotted an unknown man in one corner of the room, just sitting in a chair. Bruce spotted him as well and nodded, as if he knew him. Well it was possible. There were huge chunks of Bruce's life he didn't know about. Still, a new person in on this unnerved him. Just how many people were going to be involved?

"Richard Grayson," Judge Harris started, retaining his attention quickly. Dick held onto Damian possessively, nodding to the man in acknowledgement. He didn't trust his voice. "You understand what this meeting is about, correct?"

"Yes sir," he murmured.

Harris nodded, readjusted his moon shaped glasses and looked over his notes as he spoke. "According to the reports, you've plead guilty to nineteen accounts of theft, four accounts of destruction to public property, thirty-seven accounts of assault, twenty-eight accounts of trespassing, and breaking and entering, and being an accomplice to multiple murders. Correct?"

Damian looked up to his brother quizzically, especially as he started to tremble. Hearing how everything he did those four months could be summed up like this was terrifying. From this rap sheet, he wouldn't be surprised if they locked away the key after throwing him in jail. But he had to face this. "Yes sir."

"All of this was done under the direction of one Slade Wilson, alias Deathstroke the Terminator. Correct?"

"Yes."

"This is the same Slade Wilson who kidnapped you last December from Gotham city after implanting your adoptive siblings with nanoscopic probes set to kill them if you didn't do as you were told, correct?"

Again he nodded. "Yes sir."

"The Teen Titans were also infected with these probes," Harris continued. "So you had twelve lives in your hands, eight of which you never met previously. Correct?"

"Yes." He couldn't tell the man he already met Roy aka Speedy before then, but one thing he'd gotten could at with Slade was lying to save other people's lives.

The judge nodded, and brought out another sheet of paper. "According to this, at the border massacre on the first of March, you stopped the bleeding and performed CPR on one officer and told him to 'play dead' until the semi-truck drove away if he valued his life. You also told him to contact the Justice League, not the police, and tell them what happened."

Blinking a little too fast from surprise, Dick nodded again. He hadn't heard what happened to that man. Not until then at least. It didn't seem to be new to Bruce though. Why hadn't he told him? "Yes, that was me."

"You should know Steven James was in a coma after that and woke up last week, ready to do exactly what you said. He's expected to make a full recovery." Dick's stomach twisting lessened but didn't leave quite yet. At least he did some good on that trip. "Asked about you too, though not by name. Saved his life I imagine."

The judge eyed him for a minute in silence, making everyone nervous to a degree. Damian was the only one getting bored, trying to shift out of his brother's arms if he could. He wanted to play. Bruce kept silent like Stan told him to earlier, but gave him a small supportive smile anyway. After a minute, Harris sighed.

"You do realize that even with you admitting your guilt and being under coercion, you will still have to take some blame for your actions. Most of these crimes were performed after your seventeenth birthday. Had it been your eighteenth, circumstances would be much different. But being seventeen, you still can't be treated like a child."

"But-"

"I know you we under coercion," the judge continued, cutting off everyone, "and you're taking responsibility for your actions, but the law is the law. A degree of punishment is required.

"Due to your cooperation in this case, and the fact you have helped in taking down one of Interpol's most wanted, the sentence will be light." He looked over to Bruce, acknowledging him fully for the first time. "Fines will be paid for property damages and financial losses, correct?"

"Medical bills, reconstruction, everything that's required," Bruce answered. At least one part of this nightmare could be squared away with money. "The lost property though..."

"Other than the thermal blaster, everything's been recovered and returned to their respective owners," DA Barns stated coolly. "Largely because of Richard's assistance."

"Yes, this handles a good deal of the problem." Harris looked back to Dick, eyeing him thoughtfully. "You're a lucky man to have such a good benefactor. But there are still a few things you must agree to before I can say you're off the hook."

Dick gulped, knowing it was time for the ax to drop. Time to pay his dues.

"First of all, until you are eighteen years old, you'll be under house arrest." This made the teen's jaw drop. House arrest? He was getting off with house arrest? "An ankle monitor will be on you at all times. It will allow you to return to school next term and finish your classes when they start again. It will be the only location you will be allowed to visit while wearing the monitor, besides one other.

"You are required to have weekly psychiatric sessions until the monitor is removed."

"What?!" The young man nearly leapt to his feet in outrage at this one. He expected something like incarceration or community service and fines, but a psychiatrist?!

"Stay seated Mr. Grayson." The firm tone in the man's voice reminded him who was in charge this time. Bruce placed a hand on his eldest's shoulder to keep him still, just as pleased as he was about this assessment.

"A shrink?! You want me to see a shrink?!"

"Considering you've been a captive of an assassin, being trained to follow his footsteps, I believe a trip to the psychiatrist is a good idea. No doubt you'll be needing help coping with what happened to you these past few months."

"Do you have any idea what shrinks are like in Gotham? You'll be sending me to Arkham!"

"Judge Harris," Bruce implored, stopping the others from taking back their initial plea bargain, "you said he had to visit a psychiatrist every week until he turns eighteen, correct?"

"Yes..." The man's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Then can the courts assign us one who has nothing to do with the criminal elements?" He eyed his son while vocalizing their main reason for objecting. "I believe Dick's worried he'll be treated as a criminal instead of someone who's been through a traumatic experience."

"You know that last shrink I was sent to was bogus," Dick insisted, grumbling as he slumped back into his chair. He did not do well with shrinks. "Didn't care what state I was in so long as he got paid."

The men of law around them blinked in confusion before he explained. "After my parents died, I was sent to a court appointed shrink for a bit. Guy just wanted to drug me and send me on my way. Evil little..." He wanted to say more but on look at the kid who escaped his lap and he shut up. "Let's just say I had a better recovery being around Bruce than that guy."

Judge Harris nodded, though it was clear he didn't quite understand everything, he had an idea. "I have an associate in Gotham who will recommend one, and I'll specifically tell him it's for trauma, not criminal intent. Either way, you must spend one hour a week with the psychiatrist or you will be placed in Juvenile hall and constrained to group therapy sessions. You will be reporting to a federal marshal every week, and he will be monitoring your progress closely."

Dick put his face in his hands, rubbing his eyes. Damian had clambered down after his surprised movements earlier and now was looking at his brother curiously. Lucky kid didn't have any trauma or problems. Why couldn't he be a kid again?

"Am I understood?" The judge's voice brought him back, making him look at him once again.

"Yeah. I understand." He had to pay his dues, even if it meant unnecessary psychiatric treatment. Really, Leslie, Alfred, and Bruce would have been enough for him. That and the sure knowledge Slade was behind bars and his siblings were safe. "You want to be sure I won't be a threat because of everything that happened to me."

"It's to make sure there are no repercussions, for you or anyone around you."

"I've heard of Stockholm Syndrome," he murmured. "You don't have to explain it. I just don't like shrinks."

This won a chuckle from the man in the corner. He clearly agreed. Who was that guy anyway? Judge Harris nodded, though clearly didn't like his attitude. "You don't have to like them, just listen to one until next year.

"Furthermore," Harris took out a file on his desk and passed it over to Bruce to look over it, "you are on permanent retainer for any case against Slade Wilson. This will be the only contact you will ever have with the man again. Should you contact him outside of the courtroom, you will be placed back into police custody until a proper evaluation of your mental faculties can be completed."

"In other words he can't go looking for him." Bruce looked over the paperwork he was handed carefully as he spoke.

"And neither can you." Both of them looked at the judge in surprise. "The restraining order keeps you away from him as well Mr. Wayne. I've been informed of your... protective nature. Though I can't blame you for wanting to enact vengeance, if any member of your family comes in contact with Slade Wilson outside a courtroom, you will be detained and fined."

"What if Slade comes after me again?" Dick had to ask. He knew how good the assassin was, his skills and techniques were on par with Batman.

The man in the corner smirked while the judge frowned. "Don't you have faith in the justice system?"

"With normal criminals yes. But with madmen and super criminals the League fights?" He shook his head. "There's been too many breakouts and geniuses playing the system back home for me to think he'll stay behind bars forever. I'll stay away from him, but will he stay away from me?"

Harris gave him a doubtful look. "Really, I'm certain-"

"That's what I'm here for son." The man who stayed in the corner until then stood up and came forward, offering his hand. "King Faraday. Interpol." Dick took it, confused. This was Bruce's Interpol contact? "If Wilson ever contacts you, in any way, shape or form, you contact me immediately. You won't be held at fault and measures will be taken to handle the situation. Mr. Wayne already has my number, but before you get on the plane back to Gotham, I expect you to have all my contact information memorized.

"If he manages to grab you again, do everything in your power to contact the outside world. Your disappearance will immediately start a worldwide search should it happen again, spiraling outward from your last known location." Faraday's confidence was slightly infectious. Already Dick could feel a little better.

Slowly he nodded as he reviewed these conditions in his mind. If he went after Slade, he'd get in trouble. If Slade went after him, he'd be the one in trouble. And Interpol, the only organization he knew would book the guy for good, would be keeping an eye on things. Basically, the legal system was covering all their bases with his case should something happen again. House arrest with limited movements off the manor grounds and fines were in place to cover the crimes he committed. The shrink was to satisfy the humanitarians out there, and now that he thought about it, it was probably required for all victims of kidnapping, especially those taken for prolonged periods of time. Being on permanent retainer for any cases involving Slade was a small price to pay for getting such a light sentence for such a long rap-sheet.

"I'll be counting on you then. 'Cause I really don't want to go back to that." It was all Dick could think of to say after that. What else was there to say? Everything was decided. All he had to do was agree and sign the papers, right? The men around him smiled, glad he was so compliant and trusting them on this.

"Glad to hear it," Judge Harris started just as Faraday grinned and replied, "I won't let you down kid." The two of them looked at each other as their voices overlapped and the agent gave him an apologetic look. "Your honor."

A small smirk came to the older man's face. He shifted his eyes back on Dick and continued. "If you're in full agreement to these proceedings, just sign these papers and we can get to work."

He waved a hand over to the file Bruce was still looking over, and from his expression it looked like everything was in order. He understood lawyer jargon much better than he did, so when he nodded and passed over the paperwork, Dick just took a pen from off the judge's desk and signed his life away. "Let's get this over with."

Twenty minutes later everyone in the room had signed the papers and put them in a sealed envelope to be processed. By then Damian had explored the entire room and twice his family had to get him away from dangerous objects. As soon as Dick's part was done, Faraday started giving him all his contact information and drilling him on it to make sure it was memorized. Bruce was next, making quick work of it out of practice. Both their lawyer and the DA did their parts as well, had Faraday sign as witness, then handed it over to the judge to finish the deal. Envelope sealed, the man stood up so he could take it through the proper channels.

"Well then," Harris grinned, motioning to the others to stand so they could leave, "that takes care of that. Mr. Grayson, Mr. Wayne, I'd say it's been a pleasure, but under the circumstances, I wouldn't be surprised if you never want to enter this office again. As soon as the federal marshal assigned to your case is introduced to you and has the anklet in place, you'll be permitted to return to Gotham. Safe journeys, and I pray I never have to drag you two in here ever again."

"Judge Harris?" Dick looked at him imploringly, breaking away from everything Stan told him to do for the first time. He had a few minor questions. "Can I ask you something?"

The man raised an eyebrow and everyone else looked at him curiously. He looked to Bruce for a moment then back to the boy. "The deal's signed and-"

"It's not that," the teen stated, unsure for a moment. "It's about the future."

Donning came to both Bruce and Stan's eyes but confusion stayed on everyone else's. "Okay..."

Dick fidgeted looking down for a moment before starting. "Last year, I talked to my career counselor about... you know... what I want to be. What I can be. Does this..." He hesitated, fearful. He both did and didn't want to know. He had to know though, just in case he was partway through college and denied because of this. "Will this prevent me from any kind of employment?"

Using a five dollar word impressed the judge handling his case, but he chewed over the question carefully before answering. "Thankfully you're underage and this is being taken care of quietly. Your records will be sealed after you turn eighteen, and only if the restraining order is violated in the future will it have to be brought up. Provided you last this next year with the monitor on and don't violate any of the conditions," he reminded him quickly. "Unfortunately a few companies and organizations deny anyone with a criminal record, sealed or no, so I can't properly answer that one. Is there a particular field you're interested in?"

The lad's ears turned pink as he answered. "Police detective."

Donning came to the judge's face, then came a smile. "It shouldn't be a problem. Many officers have juvenile records, and their lives were turned around by the system. It's what makes them some of the best policemen in their district.

"And if your superiors do analyze your record, they'll find you were under coercion and cannot find fault with you when they see lives were on the line." Relief flooded the boy as he heard him speak, so glad Slade hadn't taken his future from him. The last warning though brought some disappointment in him. "It does vary from precinct to precinct, but you may be limited in how far you will get in rank, and what division you'll be sent to. Detectives though... I think that's based off of skills and education rather than records."

"So, I can become a cop?" He just needed a yes or no. "This... won't stop me?"

A soft chuckle came from the man's lips as he answered this time, coming out from around his desk. "No, it won't stop you. Might have prevented other government jobs, but a local policeman? You're in the clear."

A broad grin grew across Dick's face as the words rang through his heart. He still had his dream. Slade couldn't take that from him. Offering his hand, he met the judge's eyes evenly. "Thank you, for everything."

"Don't thank me." Harris looked over to the other men in the room after shaking the lad's hand. "Thank these men. Most days I just let the offender fry."

Seeing the teen's shocked face made the man chuckle again. He shook Bruce's hand next then directed everyone out. Damian was holding on to Dick and Bruce's hands as they walked away, opposite of the DA and Judge. Stan, their lawyer, was tailing after them to make sure they received duplicates of everything. Jump precinct officers guided them back to the suite they were using at the moment. No one could wait for the return flight to Gotham. The rest of their family was already there with Alfred to make sure they didn't miss too much school. The large suite was lonely without all of them.

Idly, Dick looked over to Bruce in the elevator and asked, "Do you think I got off easy?"

His father grunted. "Considering the circumstances, if they hadn't, I could have taken them to court and force all charges to be dropped. And I still wouldn't call that easy. We still don't know who your parole officer or psychiatrist is. I don't know many in those fields I'd trust. We're going to be playing this by ear for a while."

They eyed the officers around them for a moment, wishing it was just the three of them instead of the six. They'd be talking about something else if they weren't around. But as it was, until they were safely in Gotham, they were stuck with these guys.

"Daddy?" They both looked down at Damian between them, his innocent eyes looking pleadingly at them. "Up!"

Both broke into smiles at the tot, letting go of his hands so his dad could lift him onto his shoulders. Damian squealed in delight, liking being up high just like the rest of them. "Remember to watch your head."

"So high!"

Dick laughed fondly at the kid. Well, at least one of them was enjoying this trip.

* * *

A/N: So? Did I do a good job explaining Dick's legal situation? I'm taking a guess when it come to how the courts would handle him of course, completely based off of a variety of TV shows (ranging from JAG to NCIS to Numb3rs to Mentalist to Criminal minds ect) but I'm thinking it's slightly accurate. And I think I described everything he did in legal terms. Might be wrong, might not. Not entirely sure here.

Anywho, Faraday was the name drop, and I like that in YJ he's in Interpol, also as a name drop as he's not used ever again. So now he's Dick's Interpol protector, and he will be appearing again, way later in the future. =] I also put in that he hates shrinks (no offence to psychiatrists intended) due to Gotham's history with them, and that's one of my head cannons. Considering the Wayne's history with them, who can blame them!

Now that incident at the border, I mentioned it once in Sacrifice, and it will be put out in detail in the extended version (already written up). You'll have to wait probably 30-40 chapters for it though. I've got 24 chapts practically worked out, but they've barely entered mexico by then. Gearing the entire story to a different audience so part of the buildup is in it, plus quite a few extras. You'll love it.

Til then! ^^V


	79. Wheels on the Bus

Thought of this at work today. I just love little kids and how they can say anything incriminating about their parents and unless it's about abuse, no one believes them except other kids. Also have another field trip thing plotted out but unfinished. Man I miss those. Clearly pre-dami. Enjoy!

Timmy-5

* * *

**Wheels on the Bus**

All around them, children were singing. Not too surprised since they were all in kindergarten. Also not surprising was how off key they were.

_The wheels on the bus go round and round, _

_Round and round,_

_Round and round!_

_The wheels on the bus go round and round,_

_All through the town!_

_The driver on the bus goes move on back, _

_Move on back,_

_Move on back!_

_The driver on the bus goes move on back, _

_All through the town!_

_The people on the bus go up and down, _

_Up and down, _

_Up and down!_

_The people on the bus go up and down, _

_All through the town!_

Maggie Ryan looked over to her group's parent-volunteer monitor and frowned. He wasn't singing. She poked the boy next to him insistently. "Timmy! Make him sing!"

"SHHH!" Timmy ordered back in a hushed tone. "Daddy's sleeping!"

"Why is he sleeping?" George asked as he leaned over his seat to see what they were talking about. Next to Timmy sat Bruce Wayne, a baseball cap hanging over his face and earplugs barely visible in their places. If they leaned in far enough , they could see his eyes were closed. And if they were really quiet, they could hear him snoring slightly. Clearly the man was exhausted else he would not be able to sleep in a bus full of screaming, singing five year olds.

"Because he was up all night saving the world!" Timmy bounced up and down excitedly as he told his classmates. "Last night he helped Superman stop a plot where Brainiac was taking over the penny-gone through their computer systems. Daddy had to upload a virus into their systems so the upload was cor...up...ted and our nuclar fences weren't beached! Superman took out the bad alien computer while Daddy keeps him des-tacted!"

"Kept him distracted." The correcting murmur escaped the tired CEO's lips as he fluttered in and out of consciousness. The earplugs muffled the sound, but he could always hear his youngest's voice. He adjusted his seat briefly before dozing off again. They weren't there yet.

"Yeah, Daddy kept him distracted!" Timmy glowed with pride as he told the tale.

"Cool!" George and Fanny cheered nearby. A nearby mother rolled her eyes in amusement, shaking her head slightly. It really seemed unbelievable to the adult mind. "Is your daddy a superhero?"

"Well..." He looked back to his father for a moment before looking back to the others. "Not anymore. He retired. Said it was too dangerous. But he still has the costumes!"

"How sweet," a lady a couple seats away murmured, barely listening. One of the teachers nodded.

"Probably thinks he's a hero from Halloween."

"Every little boy thinks his dad's a hero," the first woman stated.

"That's so cool!" George repeated over and over again. The little girl across the aisle scoffed.

"He should still sing with the rest of us! It isn't bedtime. And he's too big for naps!"

"But my daddy takes naps all the time!" Angela insisted nearby.

"Mine too!"

"My daddy's always sweepy."

"Then they're bad daddies," Maggie stated, folding her arms in a superior manner. After all, she was the class genius. The teacher said so.

Suddenly she was surrounded by crying and angry shouts. "My daddy's not bad!"

"Take that back!"

"You meaniehead!"

"Liar!"

Timmy pouted and looked at his daddy who was largely ignoring the conversation, getting as much rest as possible. He knew his daddy wasn't a bad daddy. He was just really tired from saving the world from a nuclear disaster, that's all. He'd prove it.

The bus pulled up to a red light while the others argued and yelled about how their daddies were good people and Maggie was a bad girl. Timmy took advantage of no one paying any attention to him and unbuckled his chair. Dick said the buses they used were different from other buses having seatbelts and nice chairs, but he didn't believe him. All buses had to be the same because it was the law to have seatbelts on while the vehicles were in motion. Smiling to himself, he pulled himself onto his father's lap and sat on him like he would a chair.

"Timmy," Bruce mumbled above him, grabbing his attention quickly. A bleary eye opened, focusing on the boy. "What are you doing?"

"Changing seats."

"You need a seatbelt," he stated in a low tone, not really wanting to fight with a five year old.

"I know." The boy tapped the belt his daddy wore to release it. "We can share!"

The exhausted CEO looked at his son for a moment, then chuckled lightly before readjusting his belt to encompass both of them. Timmy grinned and settled in his father's lap happily. Bruce wrapped his arms around his boy just as the light changed colors, smirking to himself. As he settled back into his doze, he took comfort the boy could trust him so much to use him as a seatbelt, even when he was trying to sleep.

Thank heavens Timmy was a calm child though. If one of his brothers tried this, he'd never get any rest.

* * *

A/N: Awe! Oh if only I could put hearts here...

In other news, there's a new poll on my profile. I have a lot of projects in the works and I want to know which stories I should make a priority. I'm not ignoring DNB, it's just something I mostly do for fun. Still working on Sacrifice extended, but as I've explained in other stories, I hate doing action sequences. If anyone wants to donate/give examples of wilderness training Slade can do with Dick (remember, they're in Northern Mexico at that point) PLEASE DO! That's where I'm a little stuck. He needs to learn guns, increase his endurance, and get sick. I don't usually ask for help but seriously I'm having difficulty there. As seen here, I'm a fluffy writer, not action, though I have turned out a few good scenes...

Anywho, back to work!


	80. Kane Reunion

Okay, this is based off of a headcannon of mine. Bruce does not get along with the family on his mother's side. But they're still around. There are some people in DC land that are Kanes, and some of them are on good terms with Bruce. They're all related, howbeit distantly. Kinda got the idea from 'Custody' with one relation but I digress. This takes place maybe a month after Damian arrives. Enjoy!

Dick-15 Jason-12 Cass-10 Timmy-8 Damian-almost 2

* * *

**Kane Reunion**

"Do we really have to go to this?"

This characteristic whine came from the Wayne household to their trusted butler every time there was a high class social event. Most times it came from the younger ones who did not want to endure the boring parties where all they would be allowed to do is look nice and eat a few of the treats there; they rarely could contain themselves with their boredom and often caused havoc just to leave early. If it came from the growing teens, it was because they couldn't stand the looks and coos people were giving them, trying to get close to their father for their own ends while flirting with them. Very annoying.

It didn't often come from the master of the house, except at times like these.

Alfred looked through the rearview mirror back to the crowded back of the limo they were using, eyeing his employer knowingly. Seeing Bruce pout like a child only made his more willful children laugh like hyenas. A childish pout did not belong on the great Batman's face, even outside the cowl. Jason couldn't stop himself from laughing and even Cassandra had to suppress a snicker. Tim was holding up a mirror for Dick so he could finish trying to get his hair under control, but both of them snickered at what they could see. Their newest addition, Damian, was just admiring his easily favorite toy in his car seat, Batkitty. Had he understood the situation, he would have laughed too.

"Yes Master Bruce. It's imperative you attend this event. No matter the company."

"What's so bad about this reunion anyway?" Dick asked, giving up on his hair at long last. It was as good as it was going to get. "I mean, it's not like any of us have family we could see again."

"What about those gypsy relatives of yours?" Jason asked, still grinning from ear to ear. "They're alive and kicking."

"Complete cut off from them," the acrobat stated flatly. "Some custom of theirs. As far as they're concerned, I don't exist."

"Wish I could be that lucky," Bruce muttered under his breath. He really didn't want to go, and he had very good reasons for it. Never once had a reunion with his mother's side gone well. Distant cousins he got along with, but the rest...

"You should be happy to have some family out there Bruce," Dick tried again. "I thought you'd be happy to see them."

Their father snorted. If he wanted to see them, he'd have gone to the reunion five years ago, or the one ten years ago, or fifteen. He expected this would be the last time he'd be invited anyway, what with how old his grandmother was. She wouldn't be insisting this time he'd come otherwise. And knowing how she felt about lower classes, she wasn't calling him over to meet the children he took in.

Rumors about Damian were stirring, good and bad alike. This was a twofold deal, coming there. He could clear rumors of taking in another child without going to the courts for once, and he could get his grandmother off his case about whether the Wayne/Kane bloodline would be secure. The grouchy, proper old lady really needed to mind her own business.

Bruce grimaced at his eldest. "We... don't have the best relationship either. My uncles were... less than hospitable when I was a kid. And Grandmother..."

"Let's not focus on the past Master Bruce," Alfred insisted as they pulled up before the Kane estate. It wasn't near as large as their property, but it was still quite large and ornate. It didn't have quite the lived in feel their home had either. Very... stately. "Do give your mother's family a chance this evening sir. The children deserve to know what family you do have outside the Manor."

Still the man grumbled to himself, but not near as loudly. Though it was funny seeing their dad being the one hating events for a change, it didn't bode well to the others. Were the Kanes really that bad? A silent exchange of looks formed a plan for any scenario that may arise, mostly escape tactics in case things got messy. Would they? Who knew. For Alfred's sake they'd give them a chance.

"We have arrived sir." The limo coasted to a stop just before the mansion's large stairs. The butler gave his former charge one last chiding look, forcing the man to give in at long last.

Sighing heavily, Bruce started unbuckling Damian. "Let's get this over with."

Eagerly Jason reached for the door leading out only to find the child lock was in place. His bafflement hid the fact the old man had left the driver's seat to open the door himself. Alfred never used the child lock on any car before, at least not when they were parked for a bit. They gave him curious looks when he opened the door for them, acting very prim and proper instead of... like Alfred(which was more of a relaxed proper in compare). Only their father seemed to understand what was happening.

"Thank you Alfred," Bruce murmured, taking the satchel with Damian's needs from him as he left the car with his toddler. The others were already on the steps waiting for him, each confused to a different degree. Cass noticed the others watching them from a distance and frowned. Their presence had influenced their near grandfather's behavior somehow. The butler gave a short, polite and proper bow, before returning to his post as a chauffeur and driving off to wherever he was supposed to go until they left for the night.

Their dad sighed heavily watching him drive off, then turned to the others. "Okay, everyone on their best behavior. Use all of acting skills Alfred's taught you and pretend to be proper, polite rich kids for the night. Don't say anything out of turn and ignore all the veiled insults. We're only staying an hour at most."

"We've been around rich pricks before Dad," Jason reminded him. Was the man really that nervous?

"What's going on?" Dick asked, seriously getting worried now. He'd never seen him this anxious before, well, not like this. He'd been anxious and worried before, but this place had a particular terror for him, one he couldn't fight with his fists or wit alone. This was a whole new level on anxiety.

Bruce looked away for a moment before answering. "The Kanes are really proper... really formal. A few aren't, but Grandmother is. She has this crazy notion about Alfred and..." He shook his head again. "Look, I don't want any of you getting hurt in there. Self-righteous pricks are one thing, but the ones you're used to dealing with want to get on my good side. These people don't want to and don't need to.

"Stick together and stay out of trouble if you can help it." A slight sneaky smirk switched on his lips. "But if you can't help it, don't get caught."

Their eyes widened for a moment before slight smiles came on the kids' faces. That was as much of an invitation to give them hell if they asked for it as they'd ever get. Most of the time it was behave-or-suffer-the-consequences, but not that night. Weird.

Quickly the man strode forward, carrying a little Damian more interested in playing with his doll's cowl than in the world around him. The others followed, some taking in their surroundings while others tried to figure out how to make trouble without getting caught by these people. As soon as they entered the building, the kids could see what Bruce was talking about. All around them were faces they could recognize but not name. Most were looking down their noses at them or too engrossed in their individual lives to care if they existed. Majority was well dressed and many looked like they never wore those clothes before that night. There weren't many children there either.

Their father passed an invitation to a man at the door to check them off the guest list, then called in a valet to guide them elsewhere. "Come on. We have to do our introductions to the matron of the house."

"Why?" Timmy asked, cocking his head to the side. The kid was holding on to the satchel's strap for security and no one could blame him. Cass was staying close too, not liking the way people were looking at them.

"It's proper protocol," Bruce explained, eyeing Jason wandering ahead. The boy had the same wide eyed look he first had when he entered the manor all those years ago. "Jason, stay close."

Frowning slightly, the boy looked to their dad and waited with them without question. It didn't take long for a young man in a nice suit (not tailor made but suitable for a valet) came towards them and motioned for them to follow. The CEO was first to step in line, his anxiety growing by the second while his children followed.

After a minute, Dick poked the man and pointed to someone he recognized. "Hey, isn't that the head doctor from Arkham Asylum?"

"Jeremiah Arkham," the man confirmed, not stopping for long. The valet wasn't adjusting his pace for the kids at all. "He's Grandmother's great nephew from her brother. You're going to see quite a few familiar faces tonight."

"Wait..." The teen looked up to him in surprise. "She was an Arkham?"

"Yes."

"Meaning your mom was half Arkham?" he continued on, getting his sibling's attention.

Bruce nodded again. "Making me a quarter and Damian an eighth. Keep moving. You don't want to make Grandmother upset by being late."

"Wow..." They looked at Damian nibbling on Batkitty's ear as they kept going. Jason smirked. "Man, you've got one seriously twisted family tree baby bat."

"Jason..."

"Well he does." His smirk grew. "Along with a few others."

"Guess that's why our prank wars are so interesting," Dick concurred. Their last one came to an abrupt halt when Damian joined them in order to not scare him. So far he was adapting quite well to them, even accepted them as part of his life. Occasionally he acted out against his new siblings, but it didn't last long with Dick and Cass gained his respect very quickly. As soon as he was old enough to pull pranks himself beyond hitting them with Batkitty and throwing blocks, they anticipated he'd be attacking Tim and Jason especially.

"Don't mention those in front of Grandmother," Bruce pleaded slightly. "It'll only reinforce her views."

The older boys exchanged looks again. So Great Grandma Kane was a killjoy. Even Alfred was amused by their antics, even admired their creativity. It was one way they got their dad to laugh.

Shrugging, they followed the valet upstairs and down a hallway towards a balcony overlooking the great hall (what else could they call it?). There a very withered old lady with her very grey hair tied in a tight bun, sat on a near throne and watched the procession below. Her gown was old fashioned, but very regal on her. Half-moon glasses were chained onto her face and other gold accessories dripped from her person. Her whole demeanor screamed money, old money, and a royal pride that came from that.

Two men about ten years younger than Alfred were nearby, keeping her company. They had a similar image to the old lady, but clearly they were updated models. Neither were as tall or large as Bruce, but one of them had his eyes. Unfortunately for him, it only made him look a bit creepy.

"The Wayne Family ma'am," the valet stated, bowing slightly. All three Kanes looked over to them for a moment, not a drop of humor in their faces. Eventually the woman nodded and the young man left them.

"Bruce," the matriarch stated in acknowledgement.

"Grandmother," her guest returned, nodding to her and the men. "Uncle Philip, Uncle Samson."

"So glad you could make it tonight Bruce," the one with his eyes started, smiling slightly. His gaze immediately turned to the children, particularly Damian and Timmy. "I see you finally brought over the little ones. Be so kind to introduce them to us would you?"

"Yes Bruce," the old lady started, eyeing them all coldly, "please introduce your... family... to us."

The kids exchanged confused looks, having never seen this level of distain from someone that old before. First time for everything. Nodding, Bruce started with his eldest and worked his way down, letting go of Tim's hand in order to introduce them. "Grandmother, may I introduce Richard Grayson, Jason Todd-"

"Wayne," said child interrupted, having no interest in his biological father's history at all.

"Cassandra Cain-Wayne," he continued as if nothing had happened, "Timothy Drake-Wayne, and Damian Wayne."

The Kanes raised their eyebrows at the end of the introductions, eyes focusing on the youngest with some interest. "No hyphenation?"

He tensed, knowing where this was leading. "No. Everyone, meet my uncles, Philip and Samson Kane, and my Grandmother, Elisabeth Kane."

"Nice to meet you Great-Grandma!" Fearless for the moment, Timmy darted forward to meet the lady in the chair, grinning from ear to ear. "Alfred said you're Daddy's mommy's mommy. What was she like?"

Startled, the Kanes just gaped at the kid. They clearly knew nothing about the boy's boundless curiosity. He was just as much a detective as Bruce was. They hesitated answering his question, but Samson, the one who didn't look a thing like Bruce, deflected it with a question to their father. "Did you adopt Damian and give him his name? Or-"

"He's mine, completely. My ex-fiancé hid him from me until recently. I attained custody due to her family's background being unsuitable for children." He watched from the corner of his eye as Timmy's confidence started to deflate, a painful fire being lit in his chest for how things were going. Bruce did not want this.

"Talia Head's background was unscrupulous," Mrs. Kane stated flatly, glaring slightly. Her glare jolted Tim away from her while the comment gained eye rolls from his older brothers. They heard it before. The false, classy background Talia HEAD had was something high class women admired. Talia Al Ghul's background though... "You should have married her and properly settled down. She was the one thing you did right."

Too bad only they and a handful of others knew the truth. Again the man would have to explain how and why Talia wasn't part of his life anymore, then fabricate a believable story as to why Bruce had full custody of their child. It wasn't something he really wanted to do.

"Dick," the CEO started, passing his toddler over to the teen, "mind taking everyone back downstairs and getting yourselves something to eat?"

"Anything?"

A sharp glare answered his joking smile. "Within reason."

"Darn." Jason cracked a grin as the man passed the satchel over to the oldest. "And I was hoping you'd slip me some booze." A quick rap on the head was the answer he got from his father. "I was joking! Geeze... Someone's uptight. Hey you, Philip right?"

The man in question blinked at the boy with trepidation. He was not used to being addressed in this manner. "Yes... That's my name."

"Cool. Mind showing me around? Didn't see a bathroom on the way in and I kinda need to know how to find one in a pinch." He grabbed the man's coat sleeve and started tugging on it to get him to move. Cass saw what he was doing and moved toward the other man in hopes to do the same.

"A servant can show you," Philip tried to evade his obvious tactics, but the preteen shook it off.

"But they don't know everything about the artwork around this place like you would. They look really interesting." The boy's infectious grin took all possibilities of him escaping, forcing the man to leave with him.

"Excuse me, Samson Kane?" Cass' small voice called the other uncle's attention. "Alfred said you had custody of Dad before he did, you and Philip. Can you tell us what he was like as a kid?"

"Yeah!" Timmy switched gears and went up to the man as well, pulling on his coat. It was good to see how he bounced back so quickly. "Please tell us about Dad! And about Grandma! Where was her room? What was she like? Did you have any pets?"

"I..." The man's temper was starting to show, but a quick hand wave from his mother stopped that. The children were doing just as the woman wanted. Samson scowled briefly, stiffening before turning down the hallway. "Walk this way."

"You heard the man," Dick joked, bouncing Damian briefly. "Walk that way!"

"Fwader?" The toddler looked over his brother's shoulder to his daddy, a bit scared to be leaving him all the sudden.

Bruce smiled warmly back at him. "Father needs to talk to the nice old lady for a while. Stay with Dick and the others until I come back okay?"

The babe pouted but nodded. He opened and closed his hand at him for a moment, a way of saying bye-bye as the oldest laughed, giving their dad a grin. "Don't worry. We'll have loads of fun with Batkitty, and getting to know your estranged relatives."

"Keep it up and we'll be looking up some of yours." It was a joke on his part, knowing how difficult it was to find the teen's gypsy relatives, but it was enough to get a knowing look from the guy.

Dick looked back and forth between the two before talking off to make sure the others didn't get in trouble with Bruce's uncles. "Good luck with that."

Soon the two of them were alone above the large, loud gathering below, letting them talk freely, something the man mostly avoided. He hadn't had a real conversation with the lady since the hearing that put him permanently in Alfred's custody, and it hadn't been a good one. This one wouldn't be either. "Talia wasn't the best woman in the world Grandmother."

"I beg to differ," she countered, her eyes cold and shrewd like always. "Unimaginable beauty, a sharp mind and tongue, class, good breeding, and known for her charitable works. No one in your position could have done better."

"The woman the people in Gotham knew was a façade," he pressed, trying to make her understand. She let out a disbelieving huff as he continued. "I had seen past it and gotten to know the real person behind her, but she was the one who turned me down. I was very ready to marry her three years ago, but she returned the ring and hid Damian from me. She even admitted when we last talked that she hadn't seen much of our son since his birth. It's a miracle I learned about him at all."

A scowl appeared on her face, making clear where he gained his frightening stares from. "You're as bad a liar as your father. Trying to sell me some noble story-"

"Oh and which 'father' are you talking about this time?" Anger entered the man's voice, radiating from his person. An old argument brought back up and stemming from multiple comments made around him shortly after his parents' deaths. "Thomas Wayne whom you claim organized their murders and is still alive, or Alfred Pennyworth you say my mother had an affair with?"

Her glare darkened even further. As memory served, she didn't like Alfred much. "I think it's rather clear who your father is by now."

"Should have been clear from the beginning." He clenched his fists, suppressing his anger as much as possible. He looks a lot like Thomas Wayne, always did. "Alfred arrived at the manor when I was three, and never met my mother prior to then."

"And yet they believed it best you were left to him, instead of family." The chill from the woman's voice would have started another ice age. It was clear she still didn't like being one-uped by a will and a butler. "Such foolishness..."

"Mother knew what your sons were like," Bruce bit back. "You have no idea how my life was when you sent me off to that boarding school and they were my caretakers. You never believed me when I told you back then and you won't listen now."

"Because I knew how much your addled mind mixed up events in order to make a perfect world for yourself." She tilted her head at him, glaring from her throne. "You always had to be right. Always had to have the dark places checked because you were convinced there were no monsters. Always asking useless questions. Always making a fuss about that... that servant."

"Alfred is one of the best and most abled people I know," he insisted. "We'd all be lost without him."

"You wouldn't have picked up so many strays and stayed with Talia Head if you had stayed with us," she bit back. Her eyes flashed at him dangerously like her words. The CEO took a small step back at the implications as she continued. "All the foul turns your life has taken because we didn't keep custody... Martha's child deserved so much more."

"Strays?" His eyes hardened as he looked at her. "You think of my children as strays?"

"A circus gypsy boy, a homeless thief, and a mix breed with deadly criminals as parents... what else are they?" Grandmother pursed her lips as she admitted, "Of all those 'adoptions', only Timothy Drake was worthy of our standing. His ancestors also helped found Gotham, on his mother's side."

"Where they came from doesn't matter," Bruce retorted, suppressing a growl. "Who their biological parents are doesn't matter. They're here now and I'm the one taking care of them. Like it or not, they're your great grandchildren. And you couldn't ask for better. They're smart, kind, patient, forgiving, noble..."

"It doesn't change where they came from," the woman retorted.

"No, it only makes them better." His glare fixed on her, trying to drive his point home. "They know what's out there and they have empathy for others because of that. I'm very proud of them, and you should be too."

There was silence for a moment before the matriarch answered. "Is that why you came this time? To make me proud of them?"

The man stiffened, not sure how to answer. He avoided his mother's side for so long... Looking away briefly he answered. "Alfred insisted you should at least meet them before you... Hounded me about it ever since I first took Dick in. With Damian's arrival and mysterious beginnings, we knew you knowing the truth would end all debate. I don't want his life to be covered in scandals."

"It already is." Grandmother rubbed her eyes, clearly becoming exhausted by all of this. "If you had married Talia like you originally planned, it could be easily taken care of."

"But it didn't go that way," Bruce stated flatly. "I'm not going to hide he's my child from a former relationship, but I rather not bring his mother into the limelight again."

"Has she made an official statement?" She sounded tired, as if talking for this long was wearing her out. Was she really done fighting him? A slight bit of hope entered the man's chest.

"Not really. But I have it on record she hadn't seen Damian in well over a year before I attained custody."

"How did that even happen?" He gave her a long look which gained him a scowl. "Something underhanded I take it?"

"I have resources and allies spanning the globe," the CEO stated flatly. "In their countries, they're legal. The less you know, the better off you are."

"Are you certain he's yours?"

Glaring slightly, he answered. "Do I need to bring out the DNA test results? Grandmother," he stepped forward, going for one last truce, "all I need is you to approve of them and their lives will run a little smoother among the social elite. They deserve that at the least."

"I'll decide what they deserve from me boy." The sharpness of her tongue struck Bruce back into childhood, back when her comments were lashes against his already beaten spirit. The darkness that was in him during that time was growing heaviest then, hardly a place for a child. And unlike the Kanes who had custody over him, Bruce worked his hardest to remove that presence from his children's lives. His grandmother and uncles just added to his.

"Dad?"

Cass' timid voice jerked his attention around to his daughter in the nearby hallway. Quickly the man relaxed his face and hands so not to scare her. All his kids knew he had a temper, but he worked harder after she joined them to keep them from seeing it. He rarely lost it because of them anyway. "Yes?"

"Damian's been kidnapped by cheek pinchers and started screaming, and Dick's going to be sick. Someone took Batkitty and your uncles abandoned us." The small girl looked over to the old woman for a moment, her face as still as could be. "Great-grandma Kane's tired."

"I'll take care of it." He gave his grandmother a nod. "If you'll excuse me, I have matters to take care of."

The old woman eyed him a moment before waving him off. "As do I. Now see to your own."

His heart dropped a smidge but left the lady with her legacy and her loneliness. Quickly he returned his attention completely to his daughter. "Where are Jason and Timmy?"

"Jason's looking for Batkitty and I lost track of Tim." Cass stated flatly, not wasting any time for explanations.

"How did you lose track of him?"

The girl shrugged. "He's good at disappearing."

Bruce grunted in agreement. They hurried to the ground floor and start searching for the others. A group of women (who each had one too many surgeries) were swarming around a screaming Damian, each trying to quiet him by acting like he was theirs. Timmy was actually there with them, trying to get his younger brother away from them. Trying and failing. The women were mostly ignoring him.

Grateful tears started in his eyes when his dad placed a hand on his shoulder, relieving him of his duty to save the babe. "They took him..."

"I know. Sherry, Megan, Melissa, Valery, may I have my son back now?" The hard edge in his voice gained all the women's attention while it calmed the child for a moment.

"Your son?" one blond murmured in confusion.

"FWADER!" Damian stretched his hands out to him and all debate of origin ended. He was quickly pulled out of their grasp and into familiar safety. Bruce held his youngest to his chest, letting him burry his head into his shoulder so he could start calming down. "Fwader! Fwader!"

"Shhhh..." He rubbed the boy's back soothingly, bringing down his wails in seconds while a handful looked on. "It's okay Dami. It's okay. I'm here"

"Kitty... Fwader, kitty!" A note of distress entered the lad's voice much to the man's dismay. His other son tugged on his sleeve and started explaining mists all the confused debutantes.

"Dick saw someone and got distracted, then these ladies picked up Damian without asking. They started cooing over him so fast we couldn't do anything. Then he threw Batkitty at them and missed. I told Jason to help find it then Dick wandered off in a daze so I had to try and save Damian while Cass looked for you."

"Ah." The man sighed heavily then gave the women around him a reproving look. "Really ladies, I'd think you'd understand when a child doesn't want to be held by now."

"But he's so cute!" "We didn't know he was yours." It was near impossible to decide who said what at that point.

"Regardless-"

"Bruce?"

He turned about to the voice, recognizing it briefly. The two children at his sides looked over as well. Soon a tall, lovely lady with black hair and a golden dress with a red scarf came up to him, a genuine, amused smile growing on her face. "Bruce Wayne? Is that really you?"

He blinked for a moment before recognition settled in. "Kathy?"

"I knew it!" Laughing the woman came up to him and gave him a short hug, squeezing Damian for a moment. He screamed at the extra contact. "Ooo sorry there little guy. It's just... is this guy yours?" She looked down to Tim and Cass for a moment, still surprised. "I heard about you adopting but I didn't-"

"Dad... Who's this?" Cass and Tim cocked their heads at the woman, hoping to get an explanation.

To their surprise, Bruce smiled. "Ah, this is my third cousin once removed, Kathy Kane."

"We were little terrors at our first reunion," Kathy gleamed. She smiled warmly on the two kids at his side. "And who might you two be?"

"I'm Tim!" The boy warmed up quickly, offering his hand. She took it without any mockery and gave him a quick shake.

Cass raised an eyebrow at her before giving an answer. "Cassandra."

"And that's Damian!" Tim offered, pointing to the toddler still trying to calm down after his ordeal. "He's new."

"My my." Kathy giggled as she eyed her distant cousin and his children. "Imagine that. Bruce Wayne, now a doting dad."

"I wouldn't exactly call me doting," he interjected.

"You're doing much better than when I saw you last." A sly grin grew on her face. "As I recall, you took off for a world tour shortly after that night, insisting you didn't need anyone. Now look at you; you've got a small posse growing here."

"Kathy..." Giggles started below him and he knew he had to explain to them. "I was sixteen. Taking off cleared my head. And as I recall," Bruce eyed the woman for a moment, remembering what Alfred told him, "you were bitten by the wandering bug as well."

"Guilty as charged." Kathy looked to the kids again, animating her voice as much as possible for their amusement. "I had a wonderful time touring the globe. Mexico was especially nice for me. Took my cousin Kate with for a bit too. She needed a break from her dad."

"Why?" Cass asked, curious now.

The lady shrugged. "He's military. Everyone needs a break from military men every once in a while. Course that's nothing in comparison to Adeline. She went through a nasty divorce a few years back because her hubby was more interested in the marines than her and their boys."

"Adeline?" Bruce cocked his head to the side, trying to recall if he ever met this distant relative. Kathy waved it aside.

"She's like my second cousin Bruce. Way way far off from you. You don't even think of people being related when they're that distant. She didn't even get an invite. I think Kate's around here somewhere though." She looked around. "I swear I saw her and Betty talking a minute ago..."

"That's not-"

"Found him!" Jason returned to them, Batkitty in hand. He grinned at his dad as he returned the toy to its owner. "He was hiding from the bad guys by the punchbowl, trying to get the drop on them. I swear they were breaking a dozen fashion laws."

"Oh? Another one?" Kathy's voice brought her to the pre-teen's attention. He gave her a confused look, wondering what was going on. The lady only grinned. "And who might you be?"

He just looked at her a moment longer before looking back up to Bruce and pointing a thumb at her. "Who's this? I thought all your relatives were cold hearted nutzos. She's almost normal."

"Jason, meet Kathy Kane, one of my distant cousins." Bruce tried to smooth things over before they escalate. Last he remembered, Kathy had a temper. "Kathy, this is Jason. My oldest, Richard, he's... somewhere else at the moment."

"Nice to meet cha." The trouble maker gave her his hand in offering, still looking over the lady to figure her out. She took it and smirked.

"Pleasure's all mine."

"Cass which way did he go?" Bruce looked over to his daughter, remembering what she said earlier. Dick was sick? She pointed towards one of the glass doors leading to the yard.

"Are you really adopted?" Kathy asked the young boys, looking between Jason and Timmy. "Because I swear I see Bruce in both of you, very, very strongly."

"We get that a lot," Tim informed her, smiling broadly. "Dick usually carries around a picture of his parents to prove he's adopted."

"Do you have pictures of your mommies and daddies with you?" She asked, now curious.

"Nope." Their unified answer nearly floored her. Jason explained. "I kinda ran after my mom died and haven't been by the place since. And Timbo here can't even remember what they looked like."

"Oh my..."

"Kathy?" Bruce interrupted the conversation, readjusting his hold on the toddler. "Mind watching these three while I see how Dick's doing?"

"Not at all," she answered automatically.

"Good. Jason, Timmy, Cass," he gave them a slight glare for a moment, making sure he had their attention, "behave for Kathy here. I'll be back within ten minutes."

"Got it." Each of his kids agreed in their own ways before he took off to find his oldest. Secretly the man knew Dick and Jason would have the hardest time there, which was why he wanted them to stick together. He didn't expect them to be separated like this so quickly. He was glad he ran into one of his nicer cousins who could and would help out. Kathy Kane was one person he didn't want to be cut off from.

Readjusting his hold on Damian, Bruce headed in the direction Cass pointed earlier, scanning the crowd. Twice a distant cousin tried to talk to him about a business venture and he had to deflect them claiming a family emergency. At the third time he claimed he needed to change a diaper. Damian actually looked at him incredulously then, a scowl on his face instead of a whine for such a blatant lie. There was no denying where he got his eyes from with that look.

"Do you want to be passed around by those strange ladies again?" His father gave as a response. A quick headshake confirmed what he already knew: Damian was a bright child. "Alright then. Can you see Dick?"

With that invitation, the toddler looked around too. Almost a second after he spotted the teen, his youngest pointed him out. He was in an isolated part of the room, hiding behind an artificial tree. The stunned expression on his face baffled the man. Why was he in a state of shock? Cautiously, he came up to the lad and rested a hand on his shoulder. "Dick? You alright?"

Dick's head jerked up instantly, putting up a front as fast as he could. "Fine! Fine..."

The way his voice cracked the first time around told him plainly things were not fine. Raising an eyebrow, he silently demanded an explanation. And slowly the teen submitted. "I just... Heh... Did you know one of your cousins goes to my school?"

"It's very possible..." '_Is that all?_' Bruce couldn't see the problem with the idea. "Gotham Academy is one of the safest and best schools in the county. Unless they send their children to boarding schools, I can see several of them going to your school. I did say you would see some familiar faces."

"Wasn't expecting that familiar." Shaking his head clear, Dick tried to recompose himself. Something else donned on him. "Oh cr-"

"Rule 6."

"I lost Dami-" He blinked for a moment, looking straight into the toddler's eyes in surprise. 'Caught' wrote itself across his features. "Oh... You already know... Hi Damian!"

Pouting slightly, the babe slapped the teen with his favorite toy, effectively punishing him. Dick took the blow, wincing slightly in guilt. "I earned that didn't I?"

"Who exactly did you run into?" It was almost funny how the boy turned scatterbrained right then. He could only guess puberty had a hand in what he was thinking right then. Did he by chance run into a girl he liked?

Dick's eyes doubled in size and he quickly evaded the subject, in a single breath. "Doesn't matter. We never really got along anyway. I'm hungry. How about you Damian. Want something fun to eat?"

Eagerly the toddler nodded, reaching out to his big brother to carry him to food. The larger imp grinned and took his smaller counterpart away from his dad so they could escape to the food tables. Shaking his head in mild amusement, Bruce followed after them, more keen on keeping them out of trouble and reuniting them with the others before Kathy became tired of babysitting. With any luck, Jason wouldn't have started a family feud in the past twenty minutes.

* * *

The hour they stayed at the reunion was long and mostly boring for the kids. Rich prats were either cooing over the cute ones or giving veiled insults to the rest. Why Tim was received best out of the adoptions boggled his older siblings' minds, but as soon as the hour was up, they were glad to be gone. Kathy was nice enough, and the brief introduction to Kate was interesting, but no one else really was friendly with them. Cordial yes, but mostly in a business fashion. One or two teens had spotted them from a distance and walked awkwardly in the opposite direction.

Even Jason had to admit it was embarrassing they were, however distantly and only in paper, related. The Kanes really were a different breed of Gothamites.

Each of them hopped into the limo home with growing grins. Damian was rubbing his eyes tiredly as he was settled into his car seat, and Timmy yawned as soon as he was buckled in his booster. Alfred looked through the rearview mirror at them once they were all settled. "Did you enjoy yourselves?"

"A little," Jason admitted. He had set two pranks up that had yet to bear fruit.

"Bit boring really," Cass added, eager to change into less formal attire.

"The next family reunion we have better include the circus," Dick mumbled to himself.

"I'm tired," Timmy murmured, starting to nod off as they reached the highway back towards Wayne manor. "And their cookies weren't really that good."

"I see." Alfred peeked back to them once more, eyeing his former charge for a moment. "And you Master Bruce? Did you enjoy yourself?"

Silence came from the man for a good minute or two before he managed to answer. "I got what I needed to done. Ran into a few old friends and exchanged contact information."

"Very good sir," the butler stated, nodding in approval.

"Still think I should renew that restraining order on a few of them..." It was barely a murmur but the older boys caught it easily, as did the old man in front.

"Hm."

That one disapproving sound stilled the whole back of the limo. Rule 1 was in full force then, signaling silently they weren't to speak badly about the Kanes, especially Bruce. The man shifted in his seat uncomfortably before changing subjects. "Alright, as soon as we're home, everyone get ready for bed. Tomorrow's another big day."

"Why?" Cassandra's question was in each of their eyes, those awake enough to have it that is.

Their father grinned. Because nothing largely disastrous happened, they were going to have a sweet surprise. "You'll see."

* * *

A/N: I thought i was starting to drag this on so I ended it there. Roughly, Bruce does not get along with the Kanes, except the ones that also fight crime. So I mentioned Kathy Kane/Batwoman1, Kate Kane/Batwoman2, and Betty Kane/Bat-Girl/Flamebird/Flamehawk. Also a nod to Batman earth 1 and the Arkham connection, I thought it made sense. Also a reference to The Road home where Elisabeth Kane, Martha's mom (looked it up) accused Thomas of being her daughter's murderer and Dr. Hurt claiming Bruce was Alfred's kid. Then there's Philip Kane who once had custody of Bruce. I heard Martha had brotherS so I made #2, Samson. So yeah, lots of references here. Grandma Kane dies shortly after this event.

As for who Dick met up with, Betty. They realized they were (legally) related and before then Betty wanted Dick to go out with her. He kinda liked her then too, but at the same time they didn't always get along. Finding this out made everything even more awkward. Yay!

So on a slightly unrelated note, how many people out there follow me on Deviantart? I'm thinking of doing a contest related to DNB. Certain batkids will be taking on masks and costumes in the future. Who wants to design their costumes? I'll put details on DA later but I'm letting you guys design their costumes. =D Poll still on profile. Enjoy!


	81. Cyber Jerks

I saw this thing on the news while at work and thought of this. Cyber-bullying isn't something I've faced, but I still think it's cowardly and cruel. It's also longer lasting. Though the nature of the bullying isn't explained, the effects on those who know the person personally is seen here. Please enjoy.

Dick-16 Jason-12

* * *

**Cyber Jerks**

Jason gaped at the message he got on his phone for a minute before running out of his room to find Dick. Normally when it came to messages like this he'd just roll his eyes and delete it before Alfred or his dad saw it, but not this time. This time he had to share it with the right person. Why his 'friends' spammed him these things was beyond him, but in a small way he was grateful this time.

This time it was personal.

It took him fifteen minutes to find his older brother in the gym, working on a few routines between the monkey bars, uneven parallel bars, trapeze, and rings, all at the same time. The teen had to be half monkey. Ignoring the acrobat's need to show off whenever he had a workout, Jason shouted out to him. "YO! CIRCUS FREAK! GET YOUR BUTT DOWN HERE!"

Dick scowled mentally for a moment before twisting into a few more flips and dismounting. He landed about six feet away from his brother, glaring the entire time. "What? I wasn't even halfway through!"

"This." The serious expression on the preteen's face brought a frown to his. Something was definitely wrong if Jason was that serious. He took the offered phone and glanced at the screen to see what had him so nattered. Anger melted into surprise and slight horror as he saw the image on the screen.

"What the..."

"You think this is real?" A worried tone came from the younger's lips. He didn't want to believe it was.

"Can't be. She'd never..." Dick jerked his eyes up to him, slightly outraged. "Where did you get this?"

"One of my old lab partners sent it to me," Jason explained. "He sends me picts like this all the time and-"

"You need a censor on your phone," the older boy stated evenly, running a hand through his hair. This was not happening. "You shouldn't even be exposed to these things..."

"Which is why I brought this one to you." More worry came from him. "So, is this real?"

His brother looked at the photo again for a long moment, not sure how to answer. "It... It's completely out of character. Someone must have doctored it."

"The words on the pict should be proof of that enough."

Dick grunted an agreement and scowled painfully at the words at the bottom. How dare they... Without a word, he turned and ran out of the room towards the study. He ignored Jason's protests for taking his phone with him and kept on running. He didn't have the skills to fix this, not really, but he knew where to get them.

Before he knew it, he was in the cave, coming up behind Bruce as he worked through some case files. From a glance he could tell he was updating information on lesser violent crazies from Gotham, Riddler in particular. The guy was loose at the moment but hadn't caused any major problems yet. A calm before the storm they were sure but all the same not necessary.

Just as he opened his mouth to speak, the screen changed and the man was talking into a mic. "Green Arrow, head over to the labyrinth in Hide Park. Judging by Nigma's clues, that is where he took the Sulta's."

"A maze?! Seriously?!" Oliver sounded very stressed out over the comlink. "I suck at these things!"

"Unless Nigma's electrified the walls, you won't have to worry too much about it. There should be a handful of skilled fighters with him but if you're clever it shouldn't be a problem." The infamous B typed away at his computer, looking into something else. "Call in Speedy if you're really worried about it."

Ollie cringed on the other end. "Yeah... about that... he's kinda... I'll call Canary."

A scowled appeared on the man's face. "Is something wrong with Speedy?"

"It's personal," the archer snapped back, angry(er) for a minute. "Just get me that intel on Brick will ya? I've got work to do."

"Queen-" The distinct click of a line being cut came from the speaker, making him growl. "Dammit... What's that idiot up to?"

Quickly he worked on his cyber pursuit of this Brick character (had to be from Star, so Riddler had to be there too. He never heard of a Hide park in Gotham). Dick hesitated coming forward but then remembered that things on the internet spread like wildfire and the worse the subject, the faster it got out. Approaching carefully, he decided to watch the man work before interrupting.

Bruce was completely absorbed in stalking the criminal through the computer system he developed. It was the best he could do without being on the streets interrogating the people directly involved with the madman himself, and he'd gotten rather good at it. It really was impressive what someone could find on the internet, but making sure the information was true was another story all together. Without the cross-referencing program they couldn't be certain about anything. The League had several sites that put out false information to protect their identities after all. The bad guys could be doing the same. And mean spirited kids followed suit.

Suddenly unsure, the acrobat didn't know how to bring up what he'd just learned. He glanced at the image on Jason's phone again and steeled himself. He didn't want to get her into any more trouble. Bringing this up in a bad way would do just that. Bruce shouldn't see her like this either. So he had to work this from another angle. Using the acting skills he acquired from both the circus and Alfred, he put on his best interested face he could and came close to the computer.

"Who's that?"

The man didn't even look up at his voice. Probably knew he was there for a while. "A criminal from Star City. Shouldn't you be practicing?"

"Got bored. Figured you'd be doing something interesting with the League and wanted to watch." He looked over the data and cocked his head. "Not a lot on this guy is there?"

"He's new and prefers to stay off the grid."

"Didn't think that was possible anymore."

"Is if you're smart." He typed away, digging up older and older documents and pictures in order to get everything he could. "There's little up to date intel on him, but if you dig, you can find a lot."

"Whoa." Dick stayed quiet for a moment in thought, watching him work to see how far he had to go. Not terribly it turned out. "Is there any way to completely erase their existence in the system?"

"It's possible," Bruce murmured, "but extremely difficult. You'd need a computer expert who can hack through every system out there. Taking out someone in official databases would be easier than removing yourself from social networks though. It'd be easier to fake your death and set up a new identity elsewhere than erase your existence. You wouldn't have to worry about hard copies that way."

"That's... pretty extreme." He chewed on the thought for a second before pretending to come up with another question. "But, what about those near misses with the League's IDs being exposed? Is there a way to prevent that?"

The man stopped for a moment, suspicious about the questioning. "I have a program online warning me if there's a picture or article containing both their identities being put up. If it needs to be deleted or modified, I take care of it. Prevention is key here."

"Cool. So..." the teen turned his head slightly to give the man his full attention. "How do you do it? Get rid of pictures and article and stuff."

His father watched him for a moment before falling into a critical gaze. "What's going on Dick?"

"Nothing. I'm just curious." Dick focused on not blinking too much and keeping his eyes on the man, trying to not make him any more suspicious than he already was.

"Dick..."

"Seriously I'm just curious. I mean, I learned some hacking already so I can get intel and watch people on security cameras from watching you, so I thought it'd be interesting to learn how to delete stuff online and cover tracks, beyond me being in someone else's system that is."

"What's on the phone?

He blinked once and shook it off. "Just expecting a call that's all."

"On Jason's phone?" The knowing look on his face made the teen freeze and look down at the device in his hand. He forgot his phone was blue with a Superman sticker on the back. Jason's was a blood red with a swirl pattern and a bat etched on it. There was no possibility of confusion with their phones, at all. Bruce extended his hand. "Hand it over."

"It's...not what you think." He ducked his head as he passed the device to him.

"Just tell me what you did and how it got online." Quickly he woke the screen back up and started putting in his unlocking override code to get a good look at what was there.

"It's not about me." He watched solemnly as Bruce's eyes grew wide at the picture. "And I'm pretty certain it's faked or something. Barbara would never do anything like that."

"Agreed." The hero looked at the picture a moment longer then opened up the phone's mail to send it to his computer. "It's completely out of her character. This is either something to discredit her or her father. I've heard about cyber-bullying on the news."

"She hasn't acted weird at school so I think this just came online." Some relief entered his voice as he rambled on. "Some people give her a hard time because she's a scholarship kid and others want to get close because of her dad, but she's never really had any problems with people."

"Any crazy ex-boyfriends?" The man quickly deleted the photo from his son's phone and sent a message to the person who sent it as a warning. No more of these kinds of images would be on this device in the future. He'd be checking Jason's computer later and investing in a parental censor program in the near future for the others.

"Does her nutzo brother count?" Bruce grunted, admitting how true the statement was. Dick came closer to the computer in anticipation. "So, how do we get rid of this picture?"

"I'll take care of it." The boy jerked around, ready to object but his dad cut him off, handing him back the phone. "You just get changed and drive over to the Gordons and see how she's doing."

"But-"

"I'll show you how to do it yourself later," he promised. "Right now, Barbara may need your support. As a friend," he emphasized. "This is her reputation that someone's ruining. She's going to need as many quality allies as possible."

"Yu... You're letting me go out to her place at this hour?" Dick couldn't believe it. He barely had his license and they had a fight not too long ago about his relationship with Barbara. Plus it was a school night.

"Jim will be home soon," Bruce countered, making the teen's hopes drop a fraction. They were going to be supervised. "And we need to know where this photo was taken. I'll figure out what I can from my end but it'd be easier if she knew where to start. If it is a case of cyber-bullying, it can be handled in a civil court. If it's part of a criminal's plot, that's a different story all together.

"Now get going. You still have to be home by eleven."

The acrobat blinked twice, then bolted out of the cave faster than a bullet. It was nearly eight right then. It took half an hour to drive safely to the Gordons, and that wasn't accounting for late night traffic. He'd only have two hours with his best friend and girlfriend, and that was if he got through the door and past her father. No time to waste.

While Bruce played hero online, it was Dick's job to make sure the victim was well taken care of.

* * *

A/N: so yeah, I stopped it there because I didn't want to go into too many details of how it hurt Barbara. Haven't quite gotten her character yet. Not sure if it was just punk kids or a bad guy's plot against her dad, but either way it stung. Placed after Dick and Selina have their chat on a ledge, way before sacrifice.

yeah, saw this news report about a girl who was bullied online and decided to kill herself because of that. I'm sure there was more to it but that's what it said pushed her over the edge. can we as a people start behaving please? and to my teen readers, remember that what other people say matters very little out there. It's how you view yourself that does. What you do, your choices, they determine what adn who you are. There was this great quote about what others said and whether their opinions mattered or not but I forget it. XP Oh well. Over all, bullies are idiots trying to make themselves feel better by degrading another. It's because they have no imagination and can't torture fictional characters that they target real life people.

Anywho, beyond that happy subject, still working on other projects. may I remind people that this is an AU that bounces around adn is updated whenever there is inspiration, not because I like it more. My other works are being held off on being updated until they're completed so you can enjoy daily updates and stop waiting in teh future. I'm learning from my mistakes. =D Poll is still up adn the details about the DNB batkids costume redesigns is on my DA page. Enjoy!


	82. Hiccups

Long time no see! Thought of this while I had hiccups at work today. enjoy!

Dick-13 Jason-9 Timmy-5

* * *

**Hiccups**

_Hic_

_Hic_

_HIC!_

Dick jerked around at the loud one, then at the muffled talking just outside his bedroom door. He'd been hearing the cute squeak all afternoon but hadn't done a single thing because they came and went usually before he could do anything. But still...

Curiosity got the better of him and he had to know who had a serious case of hiccups. Opening the door, he spotted his brothers against a nearby wall. Actually Timmy was against the wall, trying to do a handstand while drinking water from a straw. Jason was keeping his feet up and trying not to laugh. Doing a fair job of it too.

"Ya gotta drink the whole thing Timmy. All of it."

_Hic_

"I don't-_hic_- think it's-_hic_-"

"Of course it's not working!" the trouble maker stated. "You're talking instead of drinking! Do you want to die?"

Beet red, Timmy tried to shake his head, pouting fearfully. "No... _hic_"

"Then shut up and do as you're told."

"Ya know..." Dick slid into the hallway, getting their attention with a grin. "My dad had a foolproof way of getting rid of hiccups. Made certain I wouldn't die from them."

Jason grinned right back at him, glad he was playing along. "Really? What was it?"

_Hic_

"Get him upright and I'll show you." The blood rushing to the tyke's head was likely to make him pass out soon. As much as he wanted to troll his baby brother, letting him pass out was not a good idea. As Timmy righted himself, Dick looked back to Jason. "What's he up to?"

"Five hundred and fifteen!" He seriously doubted it, but it was good enough to scare the baby bird.

_Hic_

Dick cringed comically. "Dang. Halfway there. We need to cure him fast or we'll have to dig up a grave in the back yard. Can't have the press hearing about this one."

"Too true," Jason comically agreed, freaking the kid near them out a bit. "Bad publicity and what will Superman say?"

_Hic_

"If he dies, we'll have to hide all the evidence where Bruce can't find it. Hmmm..." Their older brother looked over the kid critically for a moment, pretending to be thinking about his death. "There's a lot of caves down below. No one could find him there."

"NOO!" Timmy started to cry, his hiccups getting worse as he pleaded for his life. "I don't -_HIC_- wanna -_HIC_- to -_HIC_- DIE! Save me! _HIC_!"

Dick put a comforting hand on his shoulder, pretending to be super and amazing as he continued. "Don't worry, we've got your back."

"I -_HIC_- don't -_HIC_- wanna -_HIC_- be -_HIC_- stuck -_HIC_- in a -_HIC_- CAVE! _HIC_!"

"I said we've to this covered." Maybe they were taking this joke a little too far. The old legend that if someone hiccupped a thousand times they'd die was pretty ridiculous after all. "We won't let you die."

_Hic_

"What have you tried?"

"Standing on his head, drinking water, holding his breath, swallowing some air, eating sugar, tongue twisters (he sucks at those by the way), diction exercises, humming... combining them... "Jason tried to recall all the strange things they did to get rid of hiccups. The threat of death clearly hadn't worked either.

_Hic_

"So, what do got?"

"Tried pulling on his tongue yet? Say ah!" Obediently Timmy opened his mouth (_hic_) and Dick grabbed his tongue and gave it a short tug.

_Hic_

"Or was it the ears..." Quickly he pulled both the boy's ears.

_Hic_

"How about both at the same time?" Jason suggested. He grabbed the kid's ears while Dick took his tongue again. Timmy whimpered as they both pulled a little too strongly.

_Hic_

"Guess that wasn't it..."

"Oh I remember!" The oldest grinned like a maniac as he recalled one time he had hiccups. And it had worked. "What you've gotta do is clean out the cages. Bear cages where the best for this."

"Bears?!" Came Timmy's terrified squeal before another hiccup. He hated bears. They remembered when he woke up one night from a nightmare about being eaten by a bear. It was after Jason dramatized Goldilocks in a very violent fashion. The bears won. The nightmare afterwards drove the kid to their dad's bed and he gave Jason a sound tongue lashing the next morning.

"Yep, bears." Dick grinned as he came up with a fake alternate solution. "But since we're fresh out, you should help Alfred with the bat cleanup in the cave. That'll get rid of them for certain!"

"But I don't wanna!" More tears streamed down the lad's face as he whined against it. "It's smelly and dirty and poopy and baddy! I hate -_hic_- cleaning up after the bats!"

Jason scowled just behind the kid, the same thought crossing his mind as the young teen's. So close! He almost got rid of them! Sighing dramatically, Dick folded his arms and gave the only other option he could come up with at the moment. "Well it's either you clean up guano or you drink garlic tea."

"We could always google some more techniques," Jason suggested, turning away for a minute. "I'm sure there's something we've forgotten..."

"I think there's a trick with Tabasco but I forget."

_Hic_

_Sob_ "I'll go..."

Slowly the boy hung his head and started heading down to the cave, whimpering and hiccupping every few steps. Dick felt a little guilty for dragging this joke out but Jason put a finger to his lips as he silently crept up behind the kid. Now would come a surefire way to get rid of hiccups. The trouble maker hovered just above the boy's ear and did his perfect imitation of Gollum in a deadly hiss. "_We are FREE!_"

"KYAAA!" Timmy's screams could be heard even through the study entrance to the cave. As the boy was reduced to terrified tears and Jason to gales of laughter, Dick tried to calm them down before Bruce barreled in there in a temper.

"Timmy! Timmy! It's okay! It was just Jason! And look! Your hiccups are gone! It worked! It's good! Please stop crying! Jason! Stop laughing! It's not that funny!"

"Yes it was!"

"So scary! Meanyface! I hate you! Daddy!"

"Timmy... Please calm down..."

"What happened?!" At their father's roar, they all silenced and looked at the source. Bruce looked ready to pounce on whomever brought terror to his babies, but seeing the three of them like this infuriated him instead.

'_We're dead._'

"DADDY!" Timmy scrambled over to his dad, crying into his pants' leg and shaking from head to toe. In contrast Jason was ready to bolt and Dick had turned into a statue. "Jason's being a scary meanyface!"

The man knelt next to his youngest in an instant, gathering him up before glaring at the oldest. "Explain."

"Uh..."

"We were curing hiccups," Dick finally admitted.

Slowly the tense look on their father's face drained away to annoyance. "You could have just tickled him instead."

"Why didn't we think of that?" the teen looked over to Jason who shrugged. The solution was so simple...

"Why didn't you think of that? You're the tickler."

"Both of you get down stairs and start cleaning up after the bats." Bruce's eyes narrowed as he looked at them, dishing out punishment without any hesitation. "And no dessert tonight."

"NO DESSERT?!" Timmy gave the man a scared, pouty look, trying to change his mind in a millisecond.

"For them." A slight smirk appeared on his face. "After all, they're now getting their 'just desserts' for this."

The older boys groaned to themselves before heading down to the cave to get the task over and done with. Jason rolled his eyes between those older than him as he commented, "Please... leave the bad puns to Dickybird here. Yours royally suck."

"On second thought, Dick can have dessert tonight," Bruce corrected as he continued to calm his youngest down.

"Yessir!" Dick ran before the man could change his mind a second time and Jason could enact vengeance upon him. He hid his grin best he could at the luck he had. That was pretty easy over all.

_Hic_

* * *

A/N: so it ends with DIck getting timmy's hiccups! Planning on doing a second hiccup one later but I thought this was funny. I know I missed a lot of stupid ways to get rid of hiccups, but that's what I could remember here. Mostly, all you've got to do is change your breathing so your diaphraph stops spasiming. That's all.

Still working on Sacrifice and the first DNB origin story, but theres so many other wonderful distractions *coughtorturingDickcough* coming through my head that I can't help but to work on those too. *sigh* so many ideas, not enough motivation to write. Anywho, there's a poll up but I'm likely to ignore it and do what I want anyway... yeah... comment anyway.


	83. Cooties

Okay, this wasn't anything I promised people, but I thought it'd be fun. I mean, I don't think anyone here's even thought about it! Kinda cute and there's really no point to it other than the fact that it happens in families, but oh well! I'll ramble more at the bottom. Pre-dami. enjoy!

Dick-13 Jason-9 Timmy-5

* * *

**Cooties**

"Master Bruce, please gather the boys and head to the penthouse immediately."

"Pardon?" Bruce looked over to his butler curiously, not understanding the order. Alfred rarely gave such a direct demand without a reason. But the stern look on his face and the tone of his voice made him wary. His sleeves were rolled up and wet, and there was an acidic scent to him as well. Vinegar?

The butler was not amused. "This house must be under quarantine until a full cleaning is completed. Take two sets of the boy's uniforms and take them straight to the drycleaners where your suits are, and only the paperwork and books needed for the next two days. No cloth that cannot be drycleaned is to be taken. Fresh underclothes are to be bought on the way there."

"Alfred, what's going on?"

"We have been invaded." The man blinked at him in confusion, forcing him to finally explain. "By lice."

That took Bruce back. There was a notification email in his inbox saying there were cases at Gotham Academy, but he hadn't taken it too seriously. He should have. Lice were particularly hard to get rid of.

"The outbreak is minimal at the moment, but we must make certain it does not spread beyond Miss Cassandra." The old man ran a hand through what little hair he had, weary already. "I have thoroughly washed her scalp and coated it in vinegar to repel them further. Need to buy some medicated shampoo to be rid of the eggs though. Those parasites jump far and fast Master Bruce. If we do not act fast, they will infect the entire house."

"Have you searched the boys' yet?" He revised the urge to run a hand through his own hair, becoming subconsciously aware of how easily it was to be infested with the bugs. They were a nightmare once when he was traveling abroad. He did not want to go through that again.

Alfred did not like lice.

"Not yet," the butler stated with a frown, "but I will shortly. Prepare for departure immediately."

Bruce nodded and left his study desk to get to work. Some paperwork was immediately placed in their places in his briefcase while other things, like a utility belt in case of emergencies, were tucked into his pockets or elsewhere on his person. Within fifteen minutes he was putting his case by the door and searching out for the boys.

"Dick? Jason? Timmy?" Momentarily he took out his phone and started the search program in them to narrow down the search, but they had taken off their watches. Well why wouldn't they? They were home. Quickly he started to search the house for them, only to find Dick fighting with Alfred, sort of.

"You can't just take Peanut Alfred!"

"She's infested and so are you." The teen was trying and failing to get a black trash bag away from the old man. It smelled of vinegar. "You will do well to remember that."

"But I don't have cooties!" He insisted animatedly. "Only girls get cooties!"

"No one is immune to lice. Not even stuffed animals." The butler looked over to Bruce despairingly. "I am afraid Master Richard will be remaining here until the pandemic is done."

Bruce cringed as his teen persisted that he did not have lice. When did he learn cooties was another word for lice anyway? "They must have leapt onto him when he hugged Cass. Dick, please tell me you did not hug Jason or Timmy after her?"

"It is quite possible he is the source of his sister's plight," Alfred murmured, becoming weary already.

"I DON'T HAVE COOTIES!"

"Are you suuurree?" came Jason's voice, highly amused as he came around a corner with Timmy. "Last I checked you were really popular with the girls."

Dick glared menacingly at the trouble maker. "Not that kind of cootie you brat."

"Circle, circle, dot, dot, now I've got my cootie shot." Timmy was murmuring a little loudly as he made gestures on his arm. "Circle, circle, square, square, now I have it everywhere."

"Circle, circle, knife, knife, now I have it all my life!" The teasing grin on Jason's face was going to spark a war. It was only derailed when their father grabbed him roughly to look through his hair. "HEY!"

"Hold still or I'll let Dick hug you and end all debate." Bruce spared his youngest a glance before giving his full attention to the one in his hands. "Timmy, go to your room and grab your school bag and two uniforms. Don't go near Dick or Cass for now."

"Why?" he innocently asked, cocking his head to the side. He still didn't know what they were really talking about.

"I don't have cooties Bruce!" Dick insisted again, glaring at the man searching one other's hair.

"If Alfred says you have lice, you have lice." He looked up once to the teen, grimacing slightly. "Cass has them too. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

"Cooties are lice?" Timmy asked curiously, still not obeying his father's instructions. Jason even looked confused up at him.

"Seriously? They're lice?"

The man nodded, letting go of him at last. "That's the real definition of cooties. They're lice. Because girls traditionally have more hair than boys on their heads, they're more likely to have them. You're clean."

"And they are truly a difficult arachnid to be rid of," Alfred added, relieving Dick of his blazer, who pouted and glared as it was added to the bag Peanut was apparently in. "They reproduce quickly, jump from body to body, and their eggs are stubborn things, refusing to wash out without special treatment."

"Whoa..." Jason's jaw nearly dropped to the floor at the implications. Bruce stepped over to an attentive Timmy and started checking his head as well while he retained his barrings. "I thought they were just things dogs got."

"What are you gonna do with Peanut?" the teen demanded, glaring daggers at the old man. He seemed to ignore him when he turned to Jason.

"Yes, dogs do get lice from time to time. Along with ticks, fleas, and worms. They can carry diseases, suck your blood, and irritate your skin. Now go prepare a quick bag for yourself. School supplies and two uniforms. Stat." Not needing any more motivation, Jason ran back the way he came to get his supplies. Bruce smirked to himself, finishing up with the youngest (also clean), and nudged him on his way to do as he was told. Alfred gave a heavy sigh and looked back to Dick to answer his question. "Right now I am fumigating her."

"Fumigating?" That made the teen blink. You could fumigate a stuffed animal?

"Lice hate vinegar," the butler explained. "It suffocates them, especially in enclosed areas. With certain objects that cannot simply be drycleaned free of pests, they must be fumigated before they can be washed. Do not worry about her. All other stuffed toys will be joining her shortly."

"What?"

"Alfred really hates lice," Bruce explained, remembering when he had them once. "While I take Jason and Timmy to the penthouse, this place is under quarantine. He'll have a cleaning staff take care of a deep house cleaning while he makes certain you and Cassandra are free of bugs."

"It should take no more than two days if we do this correctly," Alfred added. "Everything in this household will be cleaned head to toe before I am satisfied. Including Peanut, Mystery Dog, Batbear, Mighty Mouse, and Watson."

"Watson?" Dick looked over to Bruce in confusion, which doubled as the man became a bit unnerved. "Who's Watson?"

"I better check on the boys." Quickly making his escape, the head of the household nearly flew down the hall to avoid embarrassment. He hadn't taken out that pound puppy since he was a kid. Why couldn't Alfred just forget about it...

He sighed heavily, praying this would not be the same as when he had lice back when he was Cass' age. He missed two weeks of school thanks to those critters. Dick and Cass were in for a couple of rough days of head cleaning, space invading, and head checking, with little to distract them too. Then again, it would be just him with Jason and Timmy in a penthouse they hardly used.

This was going to be one very interesting couple of days.

* * *

A/N: and that's where I end it because that's all I could think of to end it. =P Now for my fun ramblings.

WHen I was 6, I was known as the cootie girl on the playground. I used to make kissy faces and chase boys in order to make them go away. Later I dropped the kissy faces and just chased after them because they were annoying (my man troubles start here I guess), but that's another story. Ironically, around that time, I had lice. My siblings loved to torment me and decided to give me lots of information about lice. They are arachnids, they're little blood suckers, their eggs stick to your hair, they jump pretty far, are related to ticks, and are also known as cooties. So for a very brief period of time, I really was the cootie girl. I lost about two weeks of school thanks to that, even had a relapse of them. My mom saturated my head and things in vinegar and fumigated my pillows in black trash bags, cleaned the entire house head to toe and wouldn't let me go anywhere, all just to get rid of them. I dont' remember them hurting or anything. I just remember the vinegar. To this day, straight up vinegar bugs me (love pickles and olives though, weird), I scrub my head hard when I shower, and I clean my pillows every so often just to make sure there aren't any bugs. Not scared of them, just don't want to deal with them again.

As for Watson, I think I mentioned a pound puppy for Bruce before. I thought it'd be nice to finally give it a name. No one else seems to be good at making names when they're little, though I think Mystery Dog will one day be called Fermir again. *evil laugh*

Anywho, poll's still up and I'm going to bed so I can work myself to death tomorrow. XP


End file.
